O Cha!
by Li-Bai - Opus 3 No. 2
Summary: Hello. My name is Claudia J. Freeman and I am 17 years old. I have brown hair and brown eyes, and I work as a Delivery Girl in the ShinRA Electric Power Company. FFVII canon, no pairings.
1. Oh! For a Cup of Tea

**A/N: **Hey! Thanks for clicking into my first FFVII fanfiction. I've never written a fanfic for this fandom before, but I have seen fanfictions here before that have original characters and I see that they're quite popular among some. Maybe this is because so many people want to be of Gaia?

So here I am anyhow - This story centres around Claudia J. Freeman, who is a delivery girl in the Shinra Electric Power Company. It goes through the events of Final Fantasy VII from Claudia's point of view, as well as Advent Children and Dirge of Cerberus too.

Note: This story is strictly no-pairings between Claudia and the FFVII characters.

This story is also a writing practice on my part and I construct most of the chapters as I write them, so you'll probably see my style getting stronger along the way.

**06.09.07 Edit:** Ugh. Just realised a plot err. Tatty-Red-Cloak-Man should still be in his coffin, there's no way he could be in Midgar. ... Oh well. :/

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Final Fantasy VII. :(

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**Chapter 1: Oh! For a Cup of Tea**

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Hello. My name is Claudia J. Freeman and I am 17 years old. I have brown hair and brown eyes, am a little under average height (and weight) and I work as a Delivery Girl in the Shinra Electric Power Company.

Hm. Well that was boring. Well, I don't know if there's all too much to say about me. I was born on March 7, and I'm half Wutai. My father - Ken'ichi Morita - is Wutai, and my mother - Terese Freeman, who died when I was ten, and whose surname I have, came from Midgar.

Don't get me wrong. My father and I are very close, and my parents were together until the very end. I don't know why I have my mother's surname, but I guess that's just one of the things that are.

I'll try not to bore you, but it's hard, when you're just telling bald facts. Forgive me?  
Well, I lived in Wutai until about maybe about a month or so after I turned 17, and then I decided that I wanted to go and live in Midgar, and get a job. I didn't take a lot when I left Wutai - just the usual necessities, clothes, money, phone. I left everything at home with my father - Poor lonely father. I still write him often though.

Father quoted things a lot. One of my favourite quotes of his was a line from one of my favourite songs that was mostly in Wutai, but partly in English.  
"Oh, manukena lonely man!" ("Oh, a foolish lonely man!"). The way my father used to sing the song it in his low, melancholy tenor voice was wonderful.

I can a bit of a dizzy daydream sometimes, I suppose. Don't really think about what I'm doing and wander around while I'm up with the fairies somewhere. But I do my job well - I'm quick, and I make sure that the delivery is, well, delivered safely to the person (or their secretary), instead of dashing off to make the next job.

Mostly I try and take the stairs, but sometimes if I'm really tired I take the elevator. Once, on the third day, I was stuck in the elevator when it broke down. It was going to be down for a while, and so I decided to open the ceiling hatch, and climb up the elevator shaft. Yes, I _know_ that's probably one of the stupidest things you've ever heard, and it was only the third day! But if I waited, I'd be sure to have many many more jobs, and an involuntary overtime.

So, with the package hanging from my teeth, I climbed up, out of the elevator and started climbing up. It was only when I got halfway to my destination that I realised that I wouldn't be able to open the doors. I was not a happy chappy. I had to climb all the way back down that damn ladder and back into the elevator.  
Thankfully, and somewhat annoyingly, they were okay to move again about a minute after I got in, and I was free to move. Since then, I've redeveloped a kind of acute claustrophobia from since when I was a child. Stairs are now my friends.

I'd been to Midgar a few times before, and I remember initially being shocked at the vast difference that there was between them. There were buildings everywhere, everything seemed so tall and strong - and the fact that shocked me most of all was that there were barely any flowers.

I'd been to Nibelheim, once, before it became ashes. It was nice - If it hadn't been burnt to the ground then I could've gone and lived there.

That's one of the things on my list of regrets on leaving Wutai. 'Number one - There are no flowers here'.  
A couple of days after I arrived in Midgar, I found a small apartment in a nice Sector. Sure, the air conditioning was broke, but it was enough for me. About a week later, I got my job at the Shinra Company.

It's actually quite fun, being a Delivery Girl. Well, I can't say it's fun with 70 floors to the top, and occasionally having the elevators break down. Yes, how ironic. My point is though, even though I barely speak a word while performing my regular duties, I get to learn about many people in the company, mostly by observation. _That's_ the fun part.

I observe well, and I also use deduction. I can think quickly, and learn quickly, so I learnt quite a lot about people in just three days. Mainly because there were many, many, many packages to deliver to lots of different people.

I might not know their names, but that's what nametags are for, right? For instance - see that man there with the brown eyes and the short blond hair? I don't know his name, but I know that he works in the Department of Space Exploration and that he has a smoking problem. Also, he wears odd socks and hardly ever gets his paperwork done on time. I know because when I delivered something to Mr. Palmer, he was complaining about how the boy with the odd socks wasn't on time, _again_.

Sometimes when I'm on my rounds, I see the Turks. We may work in the same company, albeit for different reasons, but I'm still somewhat scared of them. You would too, if you knew that they could kill you in a split second if they wanted to. They're probably very nice, and the ones that have talked to me are (although when they do start talking, it leaves me catatonic), but I'm still scared of them.

And here's a little secret for you - I might not agree with his ideals, but I have... a crush, I guess you could say, on Vice President Shinra. There, I said it. Don't tell him I did. But he's very good looking, you have to admit.  
I'll probably never pluck up the courage to say it to his face, but who would? It's more like a... 'celebrity' crush, if you will.

It's been a further week since I got my job - four days since I decided to climb up an elevator shaft. So I'll recap those four days for you, and then we can move on.

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I woke up at six-thirty. I think it might have been a Wednesday, or a Thursday. One of them. I work six days a week, Monday through to Saturday. The hours are actually really long - from about seven to five, but I don't have anyone that I come home to, so I guess that's okay. I live about a fifteen-minute walk away from the Shinra Electric Power Company, but I walk pretty fast. It doesn't take me too long to get ready in the mornings, and I never leave the house without breakfast (even if it's just something simple).

Anyway, I got up, got dressed and ready, then had time to have breakfast before I grabbed my satchel (very handy for holding deliveries) and left. I had a Not-So-Average day that day. Almost like when you feel slightly feverish but you're actually fine.

First as I was walking to work, I thought I saw a man in a tattered red cloak. Keyword - thought. Right after that I blinked and he was gone. So I assume that it must've been my imagination... or even a fragment of memory. (I'm _sure_ I've seen that shade of Crimson somewhere before). But anyway - what caught my eye about my imaginary Man-In-A-Tattered-Red-Cloak was the colour - a lot of people in Midgar don't wear bright colours like reds and that. Another thing on my list of regrets on leaving Wutai. 'Number two - Not enough colour here!'.

Then secondly, I was walking around with my head in the clouds so that I almost walked right past the main entrance. I'm still not quite sure how that happened. I may have been immersed in my own thoughts.

Well, anyway. I walked in, trying to shake myself out of my reverie, and gave Melissa a good morning. Melissa Constantine is about four years older than me, and she's the receptionist of the main lobby. She's the one who takes the packages, then gives them to me. In a way, she's almost like my boss. (She loves baking, by the way.)

"Morning, you," she said good-humouredly, handing me two packages. "This one's for Jayden Murray in Weapons Development, and this one's for Christian Fallon in Urban Development."

I inspected the pink sticky-notes stuck on the tops of the packages.

"Mm… 26 and... is that a 47?"

"Yep."

"Lovely," I sighed. I'm not too fond of going to the higher offices in the mornings. Anything above 35 is a bit much for my morning self. Once I get past seven-thirty though, I'm all set for the day.

Melissa winked at me and gave me a thumbs-up.

"Go get them, Tiger."

I gave smiled weakly in return. Happy days.

To wake myself up, I decided to take the stairs. Even to the forty-seventh floor. Melissa doesn't half think I'm crazy when I do that. So, here I am, clomping noisily up the metal steps loud enough to wake the dead at about a seven o'clock in the morning. To all the people that were there and that heard me, I am so sorry if you heard my clamouring.

Anyway, here's another Not-Normal-For-Me thing or two that happened to me.

The packages were safely stored in my satchel, which was bouncing on my hip as I stamped my way on up the non-main stairs. Now these stairs were the kind of metal stairs that had the tiny little edge sticking out over the vertical axis. And I can't believe this happened (well, okay. Maybe I can.) But as I was starting on the second set of stairs to the nineteenth floor, the tip of my shoe caught on the edge of the seventh step and I tripped over. Clang!

Well, maybe it's not so abnormal after all. People trip upstairs, right?

I didn't hurt myself badly - I mean, I got a bruise on my knee, but that's no obstacle. But out of sheer boredom, I rolled over onto my back (no easy feat when you're on the stairs) and just stared up at the... many many more stairs that stretched on up above me. The rule is generally to never think about how many stairs you have to climb, but once you think about that rule, your legs start to hurt. So I didn't. There were eight more steps up to the nineteenth floor.

I think I was lying there for about two minutes. Sometimes two minute isn't that long, but sometimes it is.

"'Ame no hi wa ureshii kedo No Thank You!'" I bellowed up at the stairs in Wutai. The walls took up my shout and echoed it, and I could hear it ricocheting all the way up the building. I couldn't help but listen to it and smile. Here's the Not-Normal-For-Me bit.

"Heh."

I tilted my head back at the voice, frowning slightly, before hurriedly scrambling to my feet and brushing off my skirt.

_Crap!_

It was a Turk! Inwardly, I was terrified, and usually I can hide it, but not this time. God was I embarrassed!

I could tell it was a Turk, even though he looked sloppy and unprofessional. It looked like he'd slept in his uniform. He had long messy red hair that had been tied back into a ponytail and goggles on his forehead.

Oh - I remember now. I'd seen him around before. I couldn't tell if he looks either a little older or a little younger than Melissa. Still can't. But he's at least three years older than me.

The first time I saw him was on the first day. He was smoking out front (which probably isn't a good first impression), but I haven't seen him smoking since. Which probably means he's quit, hopefully. Smoking is bad for you. Remember that.

This guy was somewhat dishevelled, uncouth, had a peculiar style of speech and wasn't what you'd expect from a normal Turk - but from what I'd heard, he was pretty lethal. I just stood there, petrified. I couldn't even say anything. Seeing most Turks or coming into a five-metre radius of one usually left me catatonic.

He was slouching against the area next to the door with his arms crossed. Evidentially, he'd just come out of the nineteenth floor. The worst part of it all was the fact that he'd heard me singing.

The Turk's grin widened.

"Scared?"

After a few seconds, I managed a weak nod. He threw back his head and laughed, that - like my song - echoed up the stairwell. Terrified as I was, I couldn't help but think it was a rather nice laugh. He pushed himself off the wall and walked down the stairs and stood two steps in front of me, arms still crossed. I stood frozen where I was, my mind suddenly blank of all thought again.

He'd leaned forwards with his hands now on his hips, reached out and tweaked me on the nose. I blinked a few times.

"I don't think I've ever seen a reaction like yours before." he said, and he was still grinning.

He started walking down the steps and I let out a short, quick breath. As he walked past me, he patted me somewhat fondly on the head.

"Don't be scared, yo." he said, and he winked.

"You have a nice day now!" he waved to me as he continued down the stairs.

Out of instinct, I let out a small "You do too, sir."

The red-haired Turk laughed again as he continued on down, passing the eighteenth floor and keeping on walking down.

"You can breathe now if you want to!" he shouted up.

It wasn't until he'd actually pointed it out that I realised that I'd been holding my breath. In fact, my chest was hurting from lack of oxygen. I took in a big, deep, gulping breaths of air.

"Thank y' kindly, sir," I'd said in the same, small voice as before. I'm not sure if he heard me, but I think I heard a snigger.

That was the first time I'd ever spoken to a Turk. I made a note to myself to try not to make it a big thing. I also mentally noted down that I was not to sing in the corridors and stairwells unless I was absolutely sure that no-one was there.

Checking my satchel and patting the delivery packages, I continued my way on up the stairs to the twenty-sixth floor.

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**A/N: **So there's the first chapter done. What did you think?

The two lines of song that were used in this chapter were from 'Ame no hi wa No Thank You'. Oh, and a bit of trivia for you - The person who voices Roy Mustang is Ookawa Toru - the same person who voices Rufus Shinra in Japan. :)

'Til later!


	2. Michishirube

**A/N:** Wow! Three reviews on the first day! I shall definitely keep on writing. Reading those reviews gave me enough energy to start writing another on the same day :)

I'm quite pleased with how I did on the first chapter, actually :) Thank you reviewers! This chapter is for you :D

I'm not sure about how quickly or how many chapters this story is going to be, or how long I'm going to take to write it. One school starts up again I'm probably going to have a lot on my plate (exam year!) so forgive me if you come back and see it hasn't been updated in a while.

**Disclaimer:** I'm tired of writing disclaimers. It just makes me so depressed haha. So here's one for the whole story! I don't own Final Fantasy VII!

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**Chapter 2: Michishirube**

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I was having trouble trying to return my heart to its normal speed. You might not think it's a big thing, might even think 'Oh, how fun it would be to meet a Turk!'. But you have no idea what the reality is like. I mean, I can scare easily, but Turks leave me absolutely petrified. Please think of me kindly. It's not like I'm a scaredy-cat.

I think I was still shaking by the time I reached my destination on the twenty-sixth floor.

The twenty-sixth floor was just one of the several floors belonging to the Department of Weapons Development. Thankfully, it was not the testing and training floor. That's twenty-four.

Well, I must have been shaking still, because when I knocked on Mr. Murray's office door, the first thing he asked me when I came in was if I was alright. I managed to smile and say yes, but it wasn't a very convincing reply.

To burn off the adrenaline that my heart had created, I ran up the next few flights of stairs. I got to the thirty-first floor before I tripped over again. This time though, I just got up again and kept on running. I was worn out by the thirty-fourth floor, so I just calmly made my way on up at my own pace. I was 'ahead' of time anyway, seeing as how I'd just run up eight times two - sixteen flights of steps.

I was breathing normally with my pulse rate back to normal by the time I reached the forty-sixth floor. Still couldn't really get over the fact that at Turk had talked to me though. It would probably be on my list of top-ten most terrifying things to happen to me ever. Along with nearly getting struck by a falling tree. It's a long story. Don't ask.

Floor 47 was of the Department of Urban Development. Christian Fallon was one of the people working on Sector Five, as the plaque on the East Wing stated. Mr Fallon seemed a nice man, very courteous, polite and placid, but he seemed a few years older than even Melissa, so when he invited me out for coffee after work I politely declined. Besides, I don't drink coffee.

I exited his office and closed the door behind me.

"Good call," a male voice said good-humouredly. I turned and my heart skipped a beat, but it wasn't a Turk so I immediately relaxed a little. Instead, it was a young man with short, straight black hair and curiously dark black-blue eyes.

"Fallon's a good guy but he's way too proper," the young man remarked, folding his arms casually across his chest. "Besides - he's way too old for you. He should know that. I mean, what are you only?" He looked me up and down. "Eighteen?"

"Seventeen," I corrected, smiling. This young man was easily likeable.

He'd whistled in awe.

"Gosh, you are young." he grinned. I inspected him in turn. He was was wearing a long white dress shirt (untucked, might I add) and plain dark trousers. He was young and good-looking with a tall, slim figure (and perhaps an obnoxious tilt to his nose). Cocky, I guessed. Cocky and flirtatious and lazy and a ladies' man but with a heart of gold.

"Wutai?" I asked, looking at the way those eyes were shaped. He nodded affirmatively and raised a finger to point at me.

"Half," he said. I wasn't a question. I nodded.

"Dad's side," I added. "I've mum's surname though. My parents weren't divorced, but I guess that's just how it is. Left Wutai last month. Still visit dad."

"Ah," he said, smiling. "Mum gone then? Mine too. Got killed in Nibelheim five years ago when I was your age or so. Dad was never around much. Left Wutai after my nineteenth."

Straightening up, he turned to face me and bowed with his arms at his sides in one of the traditional Wutai ways.

"Kaoru Miyouji," he introduced himself formally. "Dedicated worker on Sector Five in the Department of Urban Development. Douzoyoroshiku."

And I, in turn, turned to face him and bowed with my hands clasped in front of me.

"Claudia Freeman." I replied. "Dexterous Delivery Girl in the Shinra Company building. Hajimemashite."

Then we'd shaken hands and bade each other a good day. After that, Kaoru and I became on good terms with each other. Oh, and by the way - everything I had predicted about him was right. He is a cocky little bastard, and he's a downright flirt and a Ladies' man. The flirting can be perverted, and he does have an obnoxious tilt to his nose after all. He might be a little out of line sometimes, and he can be rather lazy. But he's likeable and warm and caring and friendly and he does have a heart of gold.

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The two days after that weren't really too memorable, I suppose. Caught up with Kaoru a few times and had a chat, delivered - well, deliveries as per normal and worked late on the second day. Well... I suppose there might have been one memorable thing. About a day or two after I ran into that red-haired Turk.

"A - ba - ran - chu?" I said, wrinkling my nose. Melissa and Kaoru nodded.

"That's right. AVALANCHE," Melissa said, drawing a line with her finger in mid-air.

"I guess you could call them anti-Shinra electric. They don't like the way Shinra is extracting energy from the Lifestream." Kaoru explained to me. "What do you two think?"

"Well, I don't know," I'd said in reply, thoughtful and a little surprised. "It's not like I don't care, but it's just I've never thought about it before."

Melissa sighed and rested her chin on top of interlaced fingers.

"This world... we are strange." she said. We all smiled at each other.

Oh yeah - that was also the day that I found out the Mr. Christian Fallon of Urban Development had been fired after he'd sexually assaulted a girl only a few years older than me. Good thing I declined his invitation, eh?

I think we're at the present day now. All up to speed then? Good. Alright then. Today... Today was Tuesday. I like Tuesdays. Always have, but I don't know why. It's like the same sort of principle with Wednesdays, only that Wednesdays are my least favourite day of the week. However, this was no ordinary Tuesday.

I hadn't run into any Turks since my first encounter with the red-haired one with the tattoos under his eyes. Oh, I didn't mention the tattoos before? My apologies.

I was hoping not to really ever have to face a Turk again, which is actually very silly. I'm trying to cure myself, really I am.

Well, that little 'hope' was extinguished as soon as it hit about 10:00am that Tuesday. I'd been in a reasonably good mood, so I'd arrived back in the main entrance via sliding down on the bannisters. Get your minds out of the gutters, perverts. But yes - I was wearing a skirt. Not that it's any matter of mind to you lot. Glare.

Back on track now. Melissa was grinning rather evilly as I walked back in. I stopped and looked at her.

"What?"

She pulled a package out from under the counter and gave it to me. I looked at her handwriting on the sticky-note and started reading out loud.

"'_Floor 19, Department of Public Safety Maintenance, for Tseng (leader of the -_' Hell!"

Melissa started laughing hysterically at me. I pulled off the sticky-note hastily, to reveal a more normal and less snide one underneath (Tseng, Floor 19, Department of Public Safety Maintenance).

I cursed again, cramming the package into my satchel.

"Damnnit, Melissa! I'd rather deliver something to Testing and Training in Weapons Dev.!" I yelled. Melissa started laughing even harder and groped around for a moment before bringing out another package.

"Oh my god, you are not serious," I gaped, seizing the delivery and staring at the label.

"And - while you're at it - " Melissa managed to gasp out, tears of mirth streaming down her face. Still in her chair, she doubled over laughing, clutching her stomach with one hand and handing me yet another package with the other.

It was addressed to the Vice President.

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Now, to whom should I deliver first? Well, none comes to mind in terms of choice of preference. Maybe I can swap jobs with Kaoru for half an hour? He's a fast runner. But I don't want to disturb him while he's working!... I groaned and slapped my forehead.

"Iyaa!" I yelled to myself, stamping up the next few stairs.

Ever heard of 'once bitten, twice shy'? The second time was worse for me, because I knew who I was going to meet this time. One side of me was driving me up the stairs with a 'get it over and done with!' attitude, and the other side was trying to drag me back down. But, and I sighed, I had to agree with the former. Go on, get it over and done with. You'll thank yourself later, probably.

Nineteen floors worth of stairs was over far too quickly. I'd reached out for the door handle subconsciously before panicking, stopping in mid-motion. Had nineteen floors really gone by that fast? Or was my mind playing tricks on me? Damn!

Well, I didn't really have time to think. Because it was then that the metal door I'd been reaching out for (albeit subconsciously) burst open and nearly carried off my nose and right hand with it. I'd jumped back in horror (thank goodness for reflexes) and pressed my back against the wall. Two Turks came zooming out the open doorway - I stiffened up slightly when I saw one of them was the one with the red-hair. I hadn't seen the other before, but the glimpse I caught of him told me he was bald, had seven piercings in his left ear and two in his right (how peculiar), and that he looked _mean_. Also, he wore sunglasses (even though it was indoors).

"Come on, Rude! Let's go!" the red-haired Turk cheered as he and the other Turk bolted down the stairs without so much as even a glance back. What came next freaked me out.

"Seeya, Little Mouse!" the red-haired Turk yelled, without looking up _or_ back. "Keep on singing now, yo! Have a nice day, hope you still got your nose and remember that it's not a crime to breathe!"

I opened my mouth and emitted a terrified little squeak, ironically enough. The bald Turk glanced up briefly and grunted slightly at me. I shut my mouth immediately and stiffened up again, although not before giving a tiny nod in return.

Once they had both disappeared from sight (although I could still hear the clamouring and shouting with sharp clarity), I slumped against the wall and... breathed. It's embarrassing that he actually has to tell me to breathe before I do. One day I just might die from lack of oxygen. There's something about that red-haired Turk - even though he's nice, I'm particularly terrified of him.

And again, my heart was beating like a rabbit on too many steroids. I wasn't going to be able to calm myself back down in time, so I gathered up what little courage I had with me (I'd left most of it in the bedside cabinet) and walked in, closing the door behind me. I was in too much of a numb daze to look where I was properly going. And when I got to where I wanted - you guessed it - I nearly walked into the office door. Damn this reverie!

Giving a slight cough I knocked on the door. After talking to a Turk once (albeit, two short, impulse-driven sentences) the second time shouldn't be too hard, right? ... Right. It's a pity that Turks don't have Secretaries, but I can live with that. Not.

"Come in!" a voice called from inside. I bit my lip slightly with one hand on the delivery. I opened the door and peeked in. A Turk with long, straight black hair, dark brown eyes and a tilak on his forehead (Wutai, I thought) sat behind a desk while a young woman with pretty brown eyes and short blonde hair stood by him with her hands clasped behind her back.

Oh no, I though with a slight sense of dread. Two Turks. I hope I don't screw up. I smiled weakly and stepped in.

"A delivery for you, sir," I said meekly, taking the aforementioned item from my satchel. The Wutain Turk smiled politely and beckoned me closer. I approached the desk anxiously and handed him the package, which he opened at one end and peered into curiously.

"Ah, I thought so," he commented, pulling a folder out of the bag. "Thank you, miss."

I bobbed a little curtsey. How quaint.

"You're welcome, sir,"

"Hey, wait a moment..."

I glanced up quickly at the blonde Turk. She was smiling though, almost wisely. Now she had one arm wrapped around her stomach and her other elbow resting on that arm, her thumb on her chin as if thinking, or remembering.

"You're the girl that Reno was talking about." she said in an amused voice. "The one that was singing about Rainy Days. Remember, Tseng?"

I couldn't help but blush. Damn! Now the leader of the Turks knows that I sing while lying down on metal stairs!

The Turk leader, Tseng, seemed to be thinking for a moment as well.

"You mean the one he called 'Little Mouse'?" he asked aloud. I think I went even redder.

"'Ame no hi wa ureshii kedo No Thank You'? Was that it?"

Then I realised he was addressing me.

"Yes, sir," I stammered. "It's a song that my father and I used to sing together."

Now why did I say that? Boy did I want to punch myself in the cranium.

"Ah, yes," The Turk leader said, nodding and smiling. "I know now. You're right, Elena." he looked at me. "She is the one. A couple of days ago," he said, and he was talking to me again.

"A colleague of ours came back after a brief excursion saying that he'd seen a young delivery girl with a satchel singing on the stairs - only he kept on saying 'Little Mouse'."

Another weak smile from me. I'm glad the red-haired Turk hadn't explained the nature in which I'd been on the stairs. But I couldn't stop myself from asking:

"Why was he calling me 'Little Mouse', sir, and ma'am," I added hastily.

"Something about... the blonde Turk started. "Something about how when he'd walked up to her, it looked rather to him like how a terrified little mouse would look if it were cornered my a cat."

Oh, snap.

"I see, ma'am," I'd said, bobbing another curtsey. The Wutain Turk leader smiled.

"Thank you again for the delivery, miss," he said again. I gave a Wutai-style bow subconsciously, my hands clasped in front of me again.

"Not a problem, sir! Have a nice day, sir, and ma'am!"

Now did that sound silly or did that sound silly?

After exiting the office and leaving the 19th floor, I substituted banging my head against the wall for kicking it hard instead. It was stupid, and it hurt, but I felt a lot better.

Now, I wonder if I'll survive the 24th floor that easily?


	3. Yukie

**A/N:** And here is chapter three... When I'm not on the computer, I'm writing the chapters out on paper. Not a draft - I just write it as the finished thing. It's great fun :) Although typing everything out is not that much fun. Especially if you're already onto chapter six or seven on paper. PS - Character depression is a very catching thing. Don't write depressed characters and you in turn will not be depressed. D':

Apologies if the story is moving too fast.

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**Chapter 3: Yukie**

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You thought this day couldn't get any more embarrassing? Just you wait. I'd only been to Testing and Training once before, if you can even count that. I'd opened the door a bit and then heard shooting and yelling. I'd hurriedly shut the door again, and then realised I was meant to be on floor 25. Damn that sucks.

I stood in front of the door to the 24th floor in horror. It sounded like there was some kind of war going on in there. Suddenly from inside came a "Get out of the way!" and a resounding BOOM that shook the whole floor.

What was that rule again? I thought, falling onto my backside. Never walk into the middle of a battlefield? Yeah, that was it. But there were duties to perform, and rules to be cast carelessly aside in order to carry them out. Please god, I thought, getting up again. I'm too young to die!

I opened the door and quickly slammed it shut behind me, flattening myself against the wall. There was a 'bang!' and a bullet came within inches of my head, little flakes of concrete getting in my hair. I gave a shriek of terror and panicked.

"Stupid girl! Get out of the way!" a man yelled crossly, raising his gun again. That's unbelievable! I though to myself. Firing so close to the door shouldn't be allowed! A hand closed around my arm and pulled me away, leading me to an area free of any accidental deaths. Around me, the sound of shots and explosions continued.

"You okay?" a woman with black hair asked, checking me over. She brushed cement dust out of my hair. I was still in a sense of shock but I managed a faint nod. She glanced at my satchel.

"You're the Delivery girl then?" she asked.

"Ah, oh, yeah - " I suddenly remembered the task at hand and looked down for the delivery.

"Thanks!" a voice called from over the side. I looked to my right to see another woman with light brown hair and purple highlights leaning against the wall, holding up the delivery and waving. There was a double-barrelled shotgun slung over her shoulders and she was grinning.

"Um, you're welcome?" I said in a small voice. The phrase 'an egg should never argue with a stone' applies.

"Yes..." the woman with the black hair said disapprovingly. "Faeyii has been waiting for a delivery all week. By the looks of it, it only got delivered today."

We both looked on as the girl named Faeyii tore open the package with her teeth. The black-haired woman tutted grimly and I almost laughed. Faeyii pulled the item out of the bag with unsuppressed glee.

"Faeyii used to live in the slums," the dark-haired woman explained. "Hence her knack for thieving and... animalistic habits."

"You'd better believe it!" Faeyii said, her voice slightly muffled by the plastic packaging between her teeth. "Thanks Delivery girl!"

"No worries," I said, smiling. Then the dark-haired woman led me to the door. A couple of shots exploded around our heads and I panicked, seeing as how they had been fired by the same bad-tempered male individual as before.

"Ignore him," the dark-haired woman said testily. "His testosterone levels are off the charts."

"Hey, Zane!" Faeyii yelled from the other side of the room. She pulled her shotgun out from behind her back and aimed at him. Pulling the trigger, she shot at the man, and with a sharp, impacting 'bang!' there was an explosion of white mist.

The man named Zane gave an angry shout as he tried to escape his white prison. Faeyii threw back her head and laughed triumphantly. The dark-haired woman also laughed as she ushered me safely out the door.

"Seeya!" she said, winking at me.

"Bye, miss!" I said, waving as she closed the door.

It's strange. Being shot at is imminently more significant and frightening than facing a Turk (unless it's a Turk with a gun or any sort of projectile weapon) but I'm still more terrified of Turks anyway. Well, actually it depends on what circumstances you meet the Turk in, but speaking from my point of view here, the situations I go through should be no problem.

Unfortunately, my brain doesn't quite think that way.

So I've got some prioritising issues. Who doesn't?

Now - to the 68th floor. Is it 68?... No wait, sorry it's 69. 69th floor. I was tired by the 54th floor so I decided to risk the elevator up the next 15 floors. Which I probably could climb, under the right motivation.

You know what makes me laugh though? Elevator music. No, seriously now. Every time I hear it I can't help but laugh. It's makes you wonder who's in charge of the damn thing. It's so... _dull_! It also makes me a trifle homicidal. Sometimes it makes me want to strangle something, or throw myself out the window. Or even pull at my hair and scream in desperation.

But I survived, leaving the enclosed space of the elevator with only a slight twitch to my eye. I felt slightly nervous here... even though it was only the secretary I was delivering to. Still though, what if the secretary was out? Again, I panicked. If I left the package by the door and it got stolen, it would be my fault. I could potentially lose my job!

I rushed over to the secretary's office. Subconsciously, I held my breath as I ran past the Vice President's office. How pathetic of me. Really now. I knocked on the secretary's door with butterflies in my stomach.

"Come in!" a woman's voice said. Timid as always, I entered. A woman with long brown hair and pretty blue eyes smiled as she greeted me. Her nameplate read Theresa Harker. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I was reminded of my mother, Terese.

"A delivery for Vice President Shinra, ma'am," I said in a shy voice, as if afraid that the Vice President would be able to hear from next door.

"Oh, thank you," the woman said, taking the package. "Very much obliged, miss...?"

"Oh - Freeman, ma'am. Claudia Freeman," I replied.

"Well then, thank you miss Freeman."

"You're welcome, ma'am," I said, bowing my head.

The secretary laughed.

"Theresa will do. You're just as polite as Kaoru said you were."

My head snapped up.

"You know Kaoru, miss?" I asked in surprise. She nodded.

"Yes, we've been friends for quite some time now."

I laughed a little in spite of myself.

"Well, have a nice day now, miss Freeman," the secretary said. I gave a quick bow, hands at my sides, and returned the good will.

Over the next two weeks I also heard news of AVALANCHE. They were gaining reputation, and fast. It was kinda scary, because one of Kaoru's workmates got confronted in the street by a couple of members of AVALANCHE. While I'm sure that most of them will be good, there will be some with slightly more violent tendencies. Kaoru's workmate arrived in his department with a nasty bruise on his cheek and a cut on his lip.

"None the less," Kaoru said. "He's still as handsome as always."

"Oh, Kaoru," Melissa said in mock sympathy. "Do I detect a hint of jealousy?" and she reached up and flicked him between the eyes.

Here's to hoping that doesn't happen to me. It's actually been happening to quite a few people at Shinra now - the confrontations, I mean - but some of the people working in the Department of Science and Research haven't quite been so lucky in terms of getting off with just a bruise or two. I think somebody even resigned at some point. AVALANCHE was picking up speed quickly.

I was getting a little on edge, to tell the truth. Everyday when I walked to and from work, I grew a little more paranoid. Also, with the SOLDIERs now patrolling the streets, you had to be careful. I was nervous, Melissa was too, Kaoru wasn't showing it but we knew he was as well. When I had to go and deliver things for Vice President Shinra (holding my breath still) Theresa seemed uneasy too.

Thursday. My first Thursday of my second month on the job as a Delivery girl. It sounds long, doesn't it? Two months. An approximate eight weeks. Somewhere around 61 days.

Kaoru and I both confessed, and we found out that we'd both been shutting ourselves in for too long. He reckoned he was going to burst a blood vessel if he stayed cooped up indoors after work for another week. Personally, I thought I was going crazy. Insane even. Unfortunately, this insanity was taking place as a mild form of depression, maybe induced by the stress of claustrophobia. I tried running up the stairs and completely avoiding the elevators to shake my brown study. Elevator music would probably make me do something stupid.

I don't think shutting myself indoors was doing much good for me at al. But times were getting increasingly more difficult, little by little, day by day, and everyone was feeling the pressure of it. If I saw a Turk or a SOLDIER anywhere, I would almost start hyperventilating. Yes... I did continue to hold my breath while passing Vice President Shinra's office. Kaoru, Melissa and Theresa seemed to be the only people keeping me on the ground. Seventeen years old and already suffering from depression. To tell the truth, I think that's a bit sad.

I was at home, reading a book, and having major lapses in concentration. Words escaped me and missed me completely. This is getting ridiculous, I though crossly, shutting the book with a 'snap' and throwing it down onto the bedside table. Sunday. Sunday, and here I am stuck in my own apartment like somebody stuck in prison. I had to get out of here.

Without even bothering to grab my jacket, wallet or cellphone, I made for the door, shoved on a pair of sneakers and stopped only to lock the door behind me. I was so going for a walk.


	4. Good Day, Good Friends

**A/N: **Dude! I completely forgot about the plate collapsing! **Moonshine's Guide**, thank you for reminding me! I'll have to shove that in after...

How could I be so stupid (whacks self in head repetitively) I haven't played the game, so that might be it. And it was only recently I found out the Cloud had to cross-dress in order to infiltrate a mansion and rescue Tifa! I was in hysterics.

Oh yeah - Don't try guess who Mr. Somebody is in this chapter. He's just a random :) And Eki-Kyabe may well be a real medicine out there. But meanwhile, let's just say I got it from xxxHOLiC.

* * *

**Chapter 4: Good Day Good Friends**

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* * *

**

It was cold, and it was windy, and I was wearing a long, swishy sea-blue skirt and a thin, long-sleeved white skivey.

I barely noticed where I was going, and quite frankly, I didn't think I cared. I had my arms wrapped around myself as I just walked and kept on walking. I think it was somewhere around six o'clock. Stressing myself out was taking its toll. My claustrophobia had gotten a little worse, which is why - for a brief moment - I felt that I had the whole of Gaia at my feet when I stepped outside into the dim evening light.

There were others outside in the cold as well - and the now ever present SOLDIERs. I hurried on past if I saw them, my breath catching in my throat. I let my feet lead me blindly onwards, and I had no idea where they were taking me. A straight road here, a left here, an entrance to the slums there, left, right, a dividing sector wall... When I finally stopped, realising that my way forwards was obscured, I looked up and found myself in a dead-end alleyway.

"Great," I muttered to myself, tapping my foot on the ground. I think I was somewhere in Sector Seven. Look, there was the entrance to the Slums over there. Ah well. Better than being in Wall Market of Sector Six. Who knows where that might lead. Time to go back the way I came then. I sighed, turned around, walked forwards and promptly crashed into someone.

I stumbled backwards and mumbled an apology.

"Hey," a voice said. I looked up at the man I'd run into. He looked dirty and ragged and tall, and most of all _mean_. Like the type of person you wouldn't want to run into in a dark alley. Although, taking into account my predicament...

There was a lit cigarette hanging from his mouth. And he was drunk. I could smell it. I blinked worriedly. Was he an AVALANCHE member? I couldn't tell. Then again, there are also Shinra opposers full-stop, and not necessarily members of AVALANCHE.

The man looked down at me, scowling darkly.

"You're a Shinra worker," he said abruptly. It wasn't a question. I couldn't say anything. I was too scared to. The man growled and the next thing I knew, he'd grabbed me by the collar, forcing me to look up at him. I let out a terrified squeak.

"I'm tellin' ya, missy," he snarled. "You'd better tell _President Shinra_," and he spat the last two words out like poison. "To quit taking energy from the Lifestream! And I've heard the rumours about his science department's experiments with Mako! You'd better stop that too, d'ya hear me?"

I nodded hastily, but inwardly I was thinking 'How can I? I'm just the Delivery girl! _I_ haven't even heard the rumours about Hojo's science department!' I tried to pry his fingers away from my collar but his grip only tightened painfully, and he even lifted me a little off the ground. I gave a choke and spluttered, unable to breathe.

"_Do you hear me?_"

I was growing faint. I couldn't even give a fragment of an answer.

"Hey!" another man's voice shouted. The grip on my collar relinquished and I fell to my hands and knees, gasping for breath. Footsteps approached quickly. I was too weak to look up.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" the stranger demanded. "She's only a kid!"

"She's a Shinra worker!" the first man replied harshly. "I can tell!"

"And you're drunk! _I_ can tell! Now clear off or I'll do you some serious bodily harm!"

"Keh!" the first man exclaimed, kicking me in the arm. I cringed and curled up tighter. The first man walked away with a crude remark and the second man ignored them, coming to crouch down beside me. He shook me gently.

"Hey," he said gently. I shivered.

"Hey!" the man prompted, shaking me again. "Are you alright?"

I made a small sound. More footsteps passing the alley, then stopping and backtracking.

"Claudia? Claudia!" I heard Kaoru's voice shout. Running footsteps this time. "What happened to you?"

"She was cornered by some drunk," the man's voice said bitterly. "He had her clean off the ground by her collar when I saw."

"Damn..." Something cold pressed against my cheek suddenly and I let out a gasp.

"It's fine, Claudia. Just a bottle." Kaoru said. I felt him pat my head. The cold, slightly condensated glass bottle brought me to my senses and I looked up and smiled shakily at my friend. I looked to my left to see the second man. A young man in his late twenties or early thirties, perhaps, with messy brown hair and bottle-green eyes looked kindly back at me.

"You okay?" he asked. I managed to nod.

"Thank you," I said hoarsely. The man smiled.

"No worries. My name's Francis. Francis Milton. What's yours?"

"Claudia," I said. "Claudia Freeman,"

"And you, good sir?"

"Kaoru Miyouji. Pleasure."

"The pleasure's all mine."

"Claudia, are you okay? Do you need anything?"

"A drink would be nice..." I mumbled hazily. Francis smiled.

"You're in luck - there's a good place nearby. Here, I'll take you."

* * *

It was a bar in the slums of Sector 7. 'Seventh Heaven', I think it was called. Despite being in the slums, it was a nice bar. Busy, but not to busy, noisy, but not too loud. At first, it was just one little drink at the bar to clear my head, but then everything _else_ caught up with me - the claustrophobia and mild depression and such. Then it was three drinks. Then four. Then five.  
Yes, okay, I'll admit it. I was trying to drown my worries in drink and drink them all away. I'd heard it worked, but that's probably because no-one was ever sober enough to be able to think straight anyway, much less focus on your worries.

Right now, I think I was drunk. Sad, isn't it? Seventeen and drunk. Guess that says a lot for my alcohol tolerance. I'd had probably around six or so drinks now, and my emotions were on overdrive. I was pretty upset, and it was obvious on my face. Kaoru was trying to console me and persuade me not to have any more drinks, while trying to get a little support from Francis, who was just sitting there watching me with a look of interested amusement on his face.

Whenever the barmaid passed by (a pretty woman with dark brown hair and brown eyes) she seemed sympathetic. Whether this sympathy was directed towards me (as here I was, pouring out my heart and soul) or Kaoru (who was trying to calm me down, somewhat unsuccessfully) I couldn't seem to tell.

"It's getting dark now, Claudia. It's nine-thirty now. Don't you want to go home yet?" Kaoru asked me, in the desperate voice of a man who was running out of options.

I shook my head in much the same way a stubborn little child would. After the third drink, I'd spent more time talking than anything else. The most I'd garbled on about through the night was about how I felt about things. I'd mentioned how terrified I was of the Turks and how I kept on running into the red-haired Turk (who kept on calling me 'Little Mouse'. Francis seemed to find this funny). I'd talked about some of the interesting things that had happened to me (like deciding to climb up an elevator shaft) and about some of the people I had met (like Faeyii and the dark-haired woman in Testing and Training).

But the most embarrassing of all _had _to be this by far - Here I was, drunk, and slumped all over the bar. I can't remember how many drinks I'd had at this point in time, but I remember that Kaoru was finishing up his second, and Francis had finished his third.

"Hey," I'd slurred, beckoning Kaoru and Francis closer. "You wanna hear a secret?"

Francis said nothing, and simply inclined forwards with a grin on his face. Kaoru looked ready to slap him about the head. He held himself back though, and lifted his glass to his mouth, taking a long drink. Seeing that I had at least one listening audience member, I let my hand flop back onto the bar.

"You'd better not tell anyone, alright? Else I'll strangle you wi' the strap o' my satchel!"

I lowered my voice so that only those in very close proximity could hear.

"I might not agree wi' his ideals," I half whispered, half hissed. "But I got a crush on Vice Presiden' Shinra!"

Kaoru choked on his drink and almost spat it out in his shock. Coughing violently, he pounded himself on the chest with his fist while Francis burst into laughter. I'd grinned foolishly and rested my head on my arm.

Kaoru was finally able to stop coughing, and he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He set his drink down, trying to ignore Francis.

"You are so going to have a hangover tomorrow," he said to me disapprovingly. Ignoring my childlike protests, he grabbed me and slung me over his shoulder, tossing a handful of coins onto the bar counter and giving a brief bow to the barmaid and starting to walk out of the bar. I grizzled miserably and flimsily pounded his back with my fists.

"Francis! We're going!" Kaoru called, tilting his head sideways as to avoid being feebly slapped in the face by me. Francis stood up and leant forwards to meet the barmaid.

"Thank you very much for your hospitality, miss!" he said politely. The barmaid smiled back at him.

"You're welcome!"

Francis and his charisma. Sigh.

* * *

"What a lonely little apartment!" Francis exclaimed as Kaoru lay me down on the bed.

"It's small, and th' air conditioning's broke," I mumbled. "But s'enough for me."

Francis grinned and shook his head.

"You should move in with me sometime," he said. "I've been looking for a roommate for ages. Having a friend around would probably make it a lot less lonely, right?"

Kaoru had raised an eyebrow at Francis as he sat down against the bed.

"She's a teenage girl that you just met a few hours ago. Are you suggesting something?" he said testily. Francis had laughed.

"I ain't got no Lolita Complex if that's what you mean - and besides, I just don't swing that way," he'd said lazily. After a moment of thought, he'd added, "Well, okay. I swing both ways. But I know what's right and what's wrong. She's too young to be anything else but a friend, if you're willing to give a guy like me a chance."

He'd winked at me.

"You're pretty though. Probably attract a lot of boys later on."

I'd smiled sleepily. "Thanks."

Then Francis had looked at Kaoru with a mischievous glint in his eye.

"And you... You're not so bad looking yourself."

Kaoru looked positively mortified. I gave a tired chuckle and closed my eyes to sleep. The boys let themselves out.

* * *

Kaoru was right. Well, okay. Partially right. I woke up with the worst migraine ever. Forget hangovers - this was bad enough. I felt vaguely nauseous, but dragged myself along to work anyway. I stumbled in through the main entrance and bade Melissa a good morning. She'd smiled, returned the greeting and held up a brown paper bag.

"A delivery?" I asked hazily, taking the bag and turning it over, looking the pink sticky-note that would probably burn my eyes out this particular morning. There was none, only a sticker sealing the folded-over top of the bag that said 'Green Drugstore'. I looked up at Melissa, confused.

"Who's it for?" I asked. Melissa chuckled quietly.

"You," came the reply. I opened the bag and tipped it over. A small brown glass bottle fell out into my open palm. I read the white label and couldn't help but smile. I held the bottle up to my ear and shook it, listening to the liquid inside.

"Who's it from?" I asked, already knowing the answer. Melissa's smile widened a little.

"Kaoru," she said.

The label read 'Eki-Kyabe - Hangover medicine'.


	5. Filler Chapter

**A/N: **A filler chapter for you! Because I've been bad and haven't been updating D: And it's not because I got flamed (someone thinks I should dump my characters into a world of my own. I could do that, couldn't I? Darn it. Now I'm second-guessing myself :p), I'm just being lazy, and busy (because of exams, damnnit).

And by filler chapter, I mean like a side story. A random little side story that has nothing to do with the current storyline, so when I get to post the real chapter five (which will be a chapter six), you might want to go back to four to refresh your memory.

So, five has nothing to do with anything, you read like four, to six. Nya. Oh, and I had to switch my thinking so that I had drivers on the right side, instead of the left.

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**Chapter 5: Filler Chapter**

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**

I've always loved Bakeries. The smell of pastries carries a very nostalgic feeling for me, because my mother always loved baking, like Melissa does. And there was a new Bakery, I'd heard, in Sector One, so I decided to wander on down there during my lunch break to take a look.

I'd been on the fifteenth floor when the alarm on my watch went off (funnily enough though, it's an analog watch) so I just decided to head on straight down. As I passed the sixth floor and continued down the stairs, I heard somebody coming up. I saw a head of blonde hair as I peeked over the railing, and secretly hoped that it wasn't Miss Scarlet, Head of Weapons Development (because have you ever heard her laugh?).

So you can imagine that I was pretty tense as I kept on walking. Then as the figure got closer, I thankfully noted that the figure was wearing a neat black suit, and not the red dress that was typical of Miss Scarlet. But then, that meant...

It was the blonde-haired Turk I'd met once before, on that occassion that I had to deliver to the leader of the Turks. (I still shudder at the memory). As her footsteps approached, I managed to control myself and keep on going, and as we passed, we caught each other's eye.

She smiled kindly at me - the kind of smile that seems to be contagious. The kind that makes you want to smile yourself. And I did, albeit with a slightly intimidated way, but a smile, nonetheless.

"Good day, Miss," she said. I gave an anxious nod.

"Good day, ma'am," I replied.

That was it. We exchanged greetings, and then continued on our way. Not bad. Not bad at all.

I bade a goodbye to Melissa as I walked out and began to make my way over to Sector One. Just dreamily making my way along, my empty leather satchel at my waist, not really thinking about much at all. It was a nice day. The sky was beautifully clear and the sun was bright and warm. And I was walking much too close the the kerb for comfort. So when that motorcycle zoomed noisily on past, you can bet my elbow was there to meet its wing-mirror.

I, uh...

To tell the truth, I'm not quite sure what happened next. But I know that the next thing I remember, I was lying on the ground, feet pointing towards the way I'd come, and people were gasping. I blinked, feeling confused. The first thing that left my mouth was "... Oh." I heard an engine stop abruptly, and footsteps striding quickly towards to me.

"Hey, miss!" a voice said urgently. "Are you alright?"

A hand supported me and helped me to sit, and I looked up. It was a young man, maybe about four or five years older than me. A concerned face looked back at me, the serious expression not quite matching the young face. The man had curiously blue eyes... Mako blue, in fact. I gave a quick glance at his attire and winced (yes, outwardly. Blame that on the brain-scramble.) when I saw the familiar dark SOLDIER uniform. Ooh.

Another curious thing about him was his hair. It was blond, and, well...

'Spiky' doesn't quite do it justice. Lets just say it reminded me a lot of a Chocobo's head.

He jostled me a little. "Hey! Are you okay?" The few people standing around us looked just as worried. "Yeah," I gave my head a slow shake. "I'm fine... sorry, that was my fault, I must've been too close to the kerb..."

"No, not all your fault," he knelt and sat himself behind me and he held my arm out with one hand whilst pressing and prodding it with the other. "Does it hurt?"

"No," I replied automatically.

"Here?"

"No, it doesn't - ouch!" I gave a flinch. He 'hmm'ed.

"Liar," he said shortly.

"No, you just pressed too hard," I protested (of course I was lying. Well, okay. Kind of). "I'm fine. Really."

"..." He said nothing, but just stared coolly back at me. I did a double-blink.

"... Please?" I asked nervously.

He gave a sigh, partly annoyed and partly resigned. I thought I felt a hand being slipped into my satchel, and sensed something dropping to the bottom.

"Alright," he said. "But if there's any problems..." he let his sentence trail off, and he clapped me on the shoulder, over the strap of my satchel. Standing up, the SOLDIER helped me to my feet. I thanked him and bowed. I thought I caught the tiniest twitch of a smile at his lips, then he nodded and bade me good day. He mounted his motorcycle and drove off again, raising a hand in a half-salute. Still somewhat stunned, I did the same back. I'm not sure if he saw though.

As I continued onwards to the Bakery, I slid my hand into my satchel to see what the SOLDIER had left me. My fingers closed around something hard, cold and spherical, and my eyes widened slightly. Ducking into the nearest alley, I opened my satchel. In my grasp, gleaming slyly (even in the dim light) was a restorative Heal materia. Even in all my years of Wutai, where the Emperor Godo Kisaragi and his daughter Yuffie-Hime were known to have an obsession with Materia - even in all my time living there, believe it or not, I had only ever read and learnt about them and seen drawings and pictures of them - but I'd never even actually seen any _up close_, let alone touched any.

I gulped, and immediately put the materia back into my satchel, counting myself very, very, lucky. I gave a small prayer to the Gods to bless the young man who'd given it to me, SOLDIER or not.

Following my nose, I found the Bakery - a cute little place called '_Mugi Taku_'. I felt a small jolt of excitement, and gave a little squeal as I ran in and realised that yes, it was owned and run by citzens of Wutai. I could only think of one word.

LOVE.

After gazing hungrily at the food for sale in their glass cases and chatting for a brief moment to the shop owner in our own language, I bought some pastries for my lunch, and also a little something for Kaoru and Melissa. It'd been a busy day for all of us. I think we deserved a little treat.

_((Note: 'Mugi' means 'Wheat' and 'Taku' means 'House'))_


	6. Delivery for a Turk

**A/N:** I've been writing in some interaction between the Turks and Claudia because I like the Turks. Honest, I'm not... _trying_ to be Mary-sue. Although this may possibly just be the most Mary-Sueish I've written yet since my 'old days'. (Urrgh, the memories... )

Sorry the chapters are taking so long to update yo. I've been busy with schoolwork. But term is done for now. So I get time to update! Yay!

So - Tea, anyone?

* * *

**Chapter 6: Delivery for a Turk**

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**

'Twas two days after I got shamelessly drunk. And it was drizzling and grey. What a lovely start to a morning, don't you think? Most of my possessions were packed in boxes ready to be moved onto his apartment. Yeah - I'd accepted his invitation to move into his apartment with him. I get the spare bedroom, and we share half the rent. He gets me to keep him company, and I get to live in an apartment with air condition. It's a fair deal.

Okay. Just kidding.

Anyhow, my night of 'binge-drinking' had helped me a lot, surprisingly. I was a lot less on edge, and whenever I needed a breath of fresh air, I just stepped outside for a moment before coming back into the apartment. However - my fear of Turks and SOLDIERs remained the same, as was my shyness towards Vice President Shinra (or rather, the half-fear that I might run into him). Holding my breath still.

The Eki-Kyabe had worked wonders. I mean, it tasted pretty bad, but then again, so does most good medicine. I washed out the aftertaste with a glass of water and I was all good again. Thank you, Kaoru. Thank you kindly.

"Claudia," Melissa sang, waving a package in the air. "I haven't the heart to laugh at you today, seeing as you've been so unwell."

"Oh no," I groaned. "Who's it for?"

Melisa drew four letters in the air. T-U-R-K.

"Oh_no!_" I wailed, slumping ovr the desk. Melissa patted my shoulder comfortingly and I buried my face in my arm.

"Can't imagine what it'd be like," Melissa said, handing me the delivery. "Having to deliver to someone you fear."

I looked up at her, detecting a hint of laughter. Sure enough, she was grinning.

"Are you mocking me?" I ased testily.

"But of course," came the reply.

"Well then, I give you full permission to laugh at me," I said in a falsely bitter tone. Melissa's grin widened.

"Go get them, Tiger," she said, giving me the thumbs up. I smiled bleakly and waved to her as I began to walk away.

"You taking the stairs again?" she called to me as I opened the door.

"Nineteen floors!" I shouted back over my shoulder. "I need the exercise!"

I closed the door and looked at the sticky-note.

"Right then," I sighed, making for the stairs. "I wonder which Turk you are... 'Reno'."

* * *

Actually, the name Reno was ringing a bell somewhere in my head. I just couldn't figure out what significance it had. The butterflies in my stomach were at their worse by the eighteenth floor. Still though, I couldn't quite remember.

Floor nineteen. Well then, here we go.

I mean, I could just... ask... somebody...

Um...

I looked for a bit but there were no offices marked 'Reno'. So I decided to take a look in the Turk's Lounge. Myesh... I thought, peeking through the window on the door. Very flash. There was a big TV too. It was on, but I couldn't see anyone inside. Maybe if I left the delivery on the coffee table, 'Reno' would eventually come and pick it up? It's very different from leaving something at the door.

Timidly, I opened the door. Scared? No. Absolutely terrified? Well... not quite, but a little closer to the truth. I stepped inside and shut the door. My heart was in my mouth. Please, God. Don't make me do something completely stupid. I treasure life.

My hands were shaking as I pulled the delivery from the satchel.

I passed the couch and went to put the parcel down on the coffee table.

"Little Mouse!" a voice said gleefully. I whirled around and fell backwards with a scream of shock. I scrambled backwards, my breathing quick with surprise.

I hadn't been alone. The red-haired Turk had been there all along! He'd been lying upside-down off the couch with his legs sprawled all over the backrest. No wonder I hadn't noticed him!

I thought I was going to die - I mean, I was almost having a heart attack. He was completely the opposite however - relaxed and grinning away with the air of one who was having the time of their life. His arms were crossed over his chest and his hair, long, red and messy, was trailing onto the floor. He sat up suddenly, in a position where one of his legs crossed over his lap horizontally and the other foot touched the floor.

"Why so scared, Little Mouse?" he asked. I make no reply, but just stared back in horror. The red-haired Turk looked at the label on the delivery I'd ended up dropping onto the edge of the table and his grin widened further. he reached forwards and took it, then patted the area on the couch next to him with his free hand.

"Come sit here," he said in a friendly way. Still trying - and failing - to regain some sense of composure, I got up slowly and shakily (not quite knowing how to decline a Turk's invitation), and moved over to sit on the couch as far as I dared, while still being sorta close, my eyes downcast. I assumed this Turk must be Reno. Otherwise that, or he was stealing someone else's delivery (which technically isn't allowed).

"That's the way," the Turk said approvingly, tearing open the delivery with his teeth then dropping the plastic onto the armrest at his side. I was briefly reminded of Faeyii of Weapon's Development and the corner of my mouth twitched a little.

"Ah, zo to," the Turk sighed good-naturedly. "Just as I thought! Now," he set the folder and the plastic packaging down onto the table and turned to face me. My heart skipped a beat. I quickly glanced at him before looking back down at the floor, suddenly finding the carpet a rather interesting shade of red.

"I think we should have a little talk now, don't you?"

I felt momentarily dizzy.

"What's your name, Little Mouse?"

"Uh, C-Claudia Freeman, sir," I stammered. The red-haired Turk chuckled.

"None of the formalities, thanks, yo," he said, winking at me. "Makes me feel old when people call me 'sir'. If you just call me Reno, I'll just call you Claudia, 'kay?"

Being nervous makes me compliant. "Un," I mumbled.

"Alrighty then. Now, look at me." he said. I hesitated, but moved my head slightly in his general direction. A hand came down onto my head and turned it (with an added sound-effect or creaking metal from him) so that I was seeing him face-to-face. I saw bright blue eyes.

"'Smore like it," he said. "Now - why d'ya always seem so scared when you see a Turk, eh? I've never seen anyone more terrified than you. We ain't gonna hurt ya, y'know."

I'd never felt more foolish in my life than I had then.

"I - don't know, sir," I said meekly. He tapped me on the nose, causing me to blink.

"Oi, what'd I say about formalities then?" he reminded me with a smirk. I mentally banged my head against that coffee table. The red-haired Turk - Reno - looked at me thoughtfully.

"So i's just an irrational fear then? Like being afraid of spiders when you're a hundred times bigger than they are?"

"Uh... It's also the fact that you could... kill me in a split second too..." I said hoarsely, my face hot. He looked at me, then laughed loudly, but not unkindly, and patted me on the shoulder.

"Don't be scared, yo," he said. "None of the Turks would ever hurt an innocent Little Mouse like you."

He gave a contented sigh and leaned back on the couch, hands behind his head. I returned to my intense study of the carpet, but could still sense his eyes on me.

"Heard ya almost got beat up," he said in musing tones. I looked at him in surprise and he grinned.

"How did - " I began, briefly forgetting my social-statuses issue.

"Heh," the Turk replied, rubbing his nose. "Word travels fast when you know the right people."

The only people that I knew that knew were Francis and Kaoru. And as far as my knowledge went, Kaoru had no such connection to the Turks, so that left only...

"Francis?" I asked weakly. The red-haired Turk nodded.

"'S'right," he replied casually. "Used to live in the slums, m'self. Francis Milton used to as well. We're barely acquaintances, but if we see each other then we'll chat. By the sounds of it, it was a good think he found ya. Otherwise ya might have been strangled to death!"

"He was drunk," I mumbled (I'm good at that, aren't I? Mumble, mumble, mumble...) "I'm sure he didn't really mean any harm."

"You're a strange Little Mouse," the Turk said, quirking an eyebrow. "But I guess you're right. The things people can do or say when they're drunk can be odd."

I wa suddenly hit by a thought, and secretly prayed that Francis hadn't told anyone about my 'confession'. But the red-haired Turk said nothing more of the topic, so I relaxed.

The red-haired Turk looked up for a moment, as if thinking.

"What's that song you were singing again?" he asked to my sheer horror, looking back down at me. "That time you almost suffocated yourself?"

He remembered? After what, at least a month or two? That's insane! I though, almost dying of embarrassment.

"'_Ame no Hi wa_ No Thank You,'" I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I was probably as red as the carpet by this point. The Turk nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah, that one! My boss translated it from the Wutai language without missing a beat, yo. Do you come from Wutai?"

If it'd been anyone else, I'd have replied with a cheerful 'Born and bred!'. But it wasn't, so I didn't. I just settle for the generic nod instead. Ah - _now_ I remember. Reno was the name that the blonde-haired female Turk had mentioned that time...

"Sing it for me." the red-haired Turk said. I head snapped up.

"Eh?"

"Go on. Sing it for me." he prompted, smiling.

"B-but I don't remember it all," I lied, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt.

"Well, just sing what you can remember then, yo. Go on."

"Uh... I..." I was feeling much too nervous to do anything, let alone a simple task like sing, but I did so love the song...

_Oh, go on, you egg,_ a voice in my head quipped. _Do it for Tou-san!_

So I relented.

"'_A-ame no hi wa, ureshii kedo _No Thank You

_Oh, manukena_ Lonely Man!

_Demo sonna, tokoro ga kawaii no yo_

_Me ni, shizuku ga shimiru!_

_Ima dakiyosete kono te de,_

_Kimi ni hi wo tsukinai no sa_!'"

Funny how quickly one can lose themselves to a song. Singing for those few seconds make ma calm down a little, if only for an instant. Then the red-haired Turk gave a happy sigh and I was pulled back into reality, and feeling intimidated all over again. Oops.

"What a lovely song!" he exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "And such a lovely voice to sing it too. Wouldn't you agree, Rude?"

Oh no! I thought, swivelling around in my seat. There was someone else in the room? I didn't even hear the door open!

It was the bald Turk with the sunglasses. He was standing by the door, but apparently it seemed that he'd been there long enough to hear me sing. He gave a nod and a grunt of - as it seemed - agreement.

"Now now, Claudia," the red-haired Turk said, patting me on the head. "Rude may look mean but he's really just a big softie."

The bald Turk - Rude - looked perturbed, as if he resented being called a 'softie'. I uttered a squeak.

"Uh, th-thank you for your hospitality," I stammered, standing up. "But I think I should be going now..."

"Such a polite Little Mouse too, yo!" the red-haired Turk said delightedly. "Of course you can go. But before ya do,"

I stopped and looked at him. He was grinning.

"I don't think I've heard you say my name even _once_ since I gave you the permission to use it. Come on."

I couldn't bring myself just to call him 'Reno' as if we were equals, so I mustered up a bow and risked taking a loophole.

"Thank you kindly for your hospitality... Reno-_san_," I said, the name foreign and alien on my lips. The red-haired Turk gave a shout of laughter. "I hope you have a nice day."

"Clever Little Mouse," he said. "You have a nice day too."

He pointed at his partner. "That's Rude. You can call him by his name too. Go on, yo."

I turned so that I was facing the bald Turk, avoiding his gaze, and repeated my bow. "I hope you have a good day too, Rude-_san_," I said meekly. He gave a curt nod.

"You too, miss Claudia," he said in a deep, quiet voice. I shuffled over to the door and he held it open for me. As soon as the door was closed, I sank to my knees and let out a huge breath of air.

"You may have just scared her for life, Reno," I heard the bald Turk say from inside.

"Maaaybe," came the drawling reply. "But isn't she a cute Little Mouse? Just like Francis said, she'll attract a lot of boys later on."

It was here I started wondering exactly how much it was that Francis had actually said to the red-haired Turk with the goggles and the blue eyes.

There was a pause from inside the Turk's Lounge.

"A softie?" I heard the bald Turk say. There was a cheerful laugh.

"It's true and you know it is."

"I don't think the other Turks would think of me so highly after hearing you say that."

I heard flipping pages. The delivery folder, perhaps?

"Reno... why has this folder been delivered to you? It's already yours, isn't it?"

Eh? I found myself almost saying out loud. A slight frown made its way onto my face.

"'Course, yo," the red-haired Turk said airily. "But I gave it to Francis so he could get it delivered back to me. You could always rely on Francis."

Okay. Now I was really confused. And by the sounds of things, Francis and the red-haired Turk were more than just 'barely acquaintances'.

"Why would you do that?" came the question, voicing my thoughts exactly.

"So I could have a chat with the Little Mouse," the red-haired Turk said, as though this was blatantly obvious.

"What?"

"Well, I got to know how come it is she seems so scared of Turks - "

"Oh so it's not just you then."

"Shut up, Rude! Wouldn't you be scared of someone if they were higher and stronger than you too? Oh yeah - and I got to hear that song again. Couldn't remember the words. But it was a nice little chat."

I almost screamed with sheer embarrassment. Francis had helped this Turk to set this up so he could ask me why I was terrified to no end of Turks and ask me to sing? It barely sounded plausible.

"Sounds like you enjoyed yourself then," the bald Turk said somewhat testily. Footsteps.

"Yeah, I did, actually. It was a nice little insight into the mind of a Little Mouse. I hope we get to chat again soon, Little Mouse!"

I froze and looked up behind me. Through the window on the door, I could see the red-haired Turk waving at me cheerily. I scrambled to my feet in terror and made a dash for the exit.

Yet another reason why I'm so scared of Turks.


	7. Anxious Heart

**A/N: **Well then, now that my review average has gone drastically downhill xD (Thank you to **The Lady Thief **and **kezzla** though : ))

I have no idea whether to continue with the story drafts that I had, or just go on with whatever pops into my mind. I'm using part of a draft here in this chapter, but I'm not sure about the events that'll take place after that.

I'm suffering from Writer's Block at the moment (the explanation on why some of this chapter seems a little bland), but I think I'll be okay. 'Think'. However, if you have any ideas for the chronicles that make up Claudia J. Freeman's life, or anything that you think could be of assistance, please feel free to put them in a review or send me a PM. Thank you : )

Here's chapter **VII** to celebrate this year's release of Final Fantasy **VII**; Crisis Core, Final Fantasy **VII**; Advent Children Complete and the Tenth Anniversary of Final Fantasy **VII** (and the Twentieth Anniversary of Final Fantasy) in month number **VII** of year number **VII** of the twenty-first century! (Yes, I have no life.) (Edit: Or at least, it _was _still the seventh month when I started this chapter.)

* * *

**Chapter VII: Anxious Heart**

**

* * *

**

"Francis," I said, dumping another box onto the the floor of my new establishment. "Before I make myself comfortable, can I ask you a few questions?"

"Fire away, Claudia-dearest," Francis said, grinning, waving a hand at me to continue.

"Okay." I sat down on the bed and folded my hands in my lap. "One," I held up a finger. "Are you financially stable?"

"And here I was, thinking it was something serious!" Francis laughed kindly. "Of course I am. I work at a Soup Kitchen in the Sector Seven slums six days a week and the pay is good."

"Good!" I said gladly. The last thing I wanted was to move into an apartment with a financially unstable sweet-talker. "Now, two," I held up another finger. "How secure is this apartment in terms of personal safety?"

"Always wondered when you were going to get to that," he said thoughtfully. I shrugged.

"I kept on forgetting."

"Very good. Very safe." Francis replied, nodding.

"Wonderful," I sighed in relief. "I felt a little unsure about my old apartment, to be honest."

"And three?" Francis prompted. "There's always a three."

"That there is," I agreed. "Three," I held up another finger before dropping my hand back into my lap and leaning forwards slightly. "I need to know this one, just for the sake of knowing."

Francis drew in a breath.

"Are you a spy or a contact of any sort for the Turks?"

Francis let out his held-in breath with a 'whoosha', grinning a little.

"That Reno," he chuckled, shifting his weight to one side. "He told ya, didn't he?"

"Not directly, no," I confessed. "But after I delivered something to him, I overheard a conversation he had with another Turk. Some of the things he said seemed to imply that you two knew each other as a little more than acquaintances."

"Ah, I see!" Francis said. "Well, how do I put this? Hm..."

"It isn't a straight yes or no answer?" I asked curiously. He shook his head, tapping his finger on his chin.

"Well, you know, I used to live in the slums myself. Just as a little kid, living with a drunken mother and a father that I never knew. Reno and I knew each other, since we lived in the same area. We'd had our fair share of childish brawls. Then we'd moved into our teenage years and things got a little better between us. We could talk without punching each other's lights out at least.

"When I was about your age, I think, Mum died and I managed to scrounge enough money to be able to move up to the Plate. Reno had left months and months ago by then - he'd run off to become a Turk. While I was struggling along on the Plate, I met Reno again. He offered me a job as an outside contact for the Turks and I took him up on that offer, desperate for money.

"I was a regular contact with the Turks for quite some time - a few years maybe even. Found my job as a Chef's assistant at some point, later moved on to find work at the Soup Kitchen. Ironic isn't it? That I found work in the place I wanted to leave the most," he grinned, putting as much humour into it as he could. But I could read between the lines.

"Anyway, when I was about twenty-three, I decided that I didn't want to be a contact anymore. The next time I caught up with Reno, I talked to him about it. He said he'd see what he could do. I said I didn't care what he did, so long as he helped me out. Technically they've dropped me, so I've no ties to them. I should've been eliminated though, for security issues. Reno managed to convince them not to kill me, but he consented to their idea of playing a trick on me.

"What'd they do?" I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. Francis gave a crooked half-smile.

"They had a couple of SOLDIERS kidnap me and interrogate me forcefully. Training exercise for the Third Classes who did it, real deal for me. I told them I knew nothing, because I was just an outside contact and all. I knew as much as any other curious busybody person in Midgar. They were doubtful at first though, so..."

He pulled down the collar of his top to show me a thin, burgundy scar dragged across the top of his collarbone. I flinched, but Francis just calmly winked at me before letting his collar slip back into place.

"Painful-looking, isn't it? But even subjected under all that mental and physical torture, I didn't say anything, because I didn't _know_ anything. Bruises took months and months to fade, some scars stayed, some went, a few of the mental ones still linger…" he waved a hand dismissively.

"They came to believe me eventually, although some still debated that I should be wiped. It's a cold case now, but Reno and I will encounter each other from time to time and have a drink."

"What about after I?..." I pointed at myself. Francis nodded.

"Day after." He said. "Don't worry. Your secret crush still remains a secret."

I blushed heavily, and he laughed.

"What'd you say to him?" I asked.

"I said you almost got strangled, got upset, tried to relieve yourself of the depression and misery with drink."

Meh. Cryptic enough.

"And… the delivery?" I raised an eyebrow. Francis laughed.

"We figured out that the Delivery girl I'd met the night before was the same shy Little Mouse that Reno had seen singing on the stairs."

I went red again.

"He was curious as to why you were so scared of Turks - or him, as he thought. Why is that, by the way?"

"S'not just Turks…" I mumbled. "It's SOLDIERs too."

"Although I take it that the origins are unrelated?"

I nodded. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke up again.

"Taking into account your age... You'd have been young at the time, but has it anything to with?..." he arched a brow, raised a finger and let the unfinished question finish itself. I hesitated, then nodded again, quietly.

"Well, that explains it then. Anyway... Reno wanted to ask you personally, so we arranged a delivery. He gave me a folder that he had with him, and I arranged to have it sent back to him. Did you two have a nice chat?"

"A-hah…" I gave a nervous little laugh, cleared my throat and ignored the question. Francis' smile widened.

"Well, thank you, Francis" I said. "Now that I know you're not a spy (at least, not anymore) I can sleep without fear of having my head cut off because of something I might've said."

Francis laughed again.

* * *

That night as I lay in bed, physically tired but mentally awake, I reminisced over what Francis had thankfully left unsaid. That half-sentence alone was enough to bring back bad memories from my younger years and I didn't want to go back there if I could help it.

I drifted off to a deeper state of semiconsciousness where I was still aware that there were scrambled bits and pieces of thought running through my mind, but with the knowledge that I would lose them if I were to wake.

Finally, I fell asleep.

I had a Lucid dream. About Papa. He was sitting alone at home, reading a book like he often did, and I was suddenly struck with the most terrible, heart-stopping sense of guilt. I was going to reach out and say something to him, but then there was a sudden explosive **-BOOM**- that made me sit up in my bed so abruptly I was momentarily shot by vertigo. Small white stars popped and disappeared in front of my eyes.

A few seconds later, there was another similar -**BOOM**-, although at a lesser volume than its predecessor. Light, barefooted footsteps across a linoleum floor...

"Claudia."

"Francis?"

"Claudia, come look."

I looked at the clock on my bedside table. Three hours since I'd initially gone to bed. I pulled back the covers, slipped out of bed and followed Francis to the dining/living room. He pointed out the window in a silent gesture, towards Sector One. I brushed some of my hair out of my eyes, leaned forwards a little, and gasped.

"The Mako Reactor," I said, aghast. Francis nodded solemnly, and let his hand fall back down to his side.

"Looks like AVALANCHE have taken their biggest step so far yet," he replied. I wrapped my arms around myself, my mouth set in a firm, grim line. I hope this didn't mean war. Because I didn't ever want to have to go through that, ever ever again.

* * *

If it weren't for two, _teensy-weensy_ little things, I'd have had nothing to report about this day at all, really. Because you know, the life of a Delivery Girl can be kinda monotonous sometimes. Especially if it entails Elevator Music. Dear Kami...

The first was a little bit of something I hadn't seen in a long time, even in a big city like Midgar. It was life. And colour. And - above all - _flowers_. I'd seen a lady in a pink dress and brown hiking boots selling them this morning. Beautiful white and yellow _Narcissus_, or daffodils, to be more precise. She was selling them for a gil each. I watched as several children ran up to her to ask for some flowers to make into a bouquet for their mother's birthday, and I smiled to myself a little.

I was running just on time today because last night's explosion at Reactor One had caused me to sleep in some and I was still tired today... So I couldn't stop and buy some, even though I really, really, _really super badly_ wanted to. Believe me, it took all my inner strength just to keep me walking where I was going.

Anyway, the second thing was about a Delivery. Or rather – who the delivery was addressed to. (The initial short, blunt, to-the-point conversation went a little something like this:)

"'Nother delivery for you."

"Which floor?"

"Sixty-seventh."

"Science Dep.?"

"Yup."

"Oh, Lordeh. Who for?"

I'll give you a few clues – Black hair, partially Wutai, glasses. You guessed it – Professor Hojo, Head of the Science Department at the ShinRa Electric Power Company.

What? Don't tell me you didn't know that Hojo was at least half Wutai!

Um, anyway, back on track... I suppose you could say that Hojo is scary. I know that lots and lots and lots and lots of people don't like him, and I've had to deliver to him I dunno, one or two or few times before. The way I see it, it's almost as if everyone's _supposed_ to hate him. But I'm not sure... I mean, it's not like I think the guy's a _Saint_ or anything. But I've always managed to find a little bit of good amongst the bad in people. I'm not saying I think inside, yeah, he's a really great guy... I mean, he's got flaws, just like everybody else. Although maybe his flaws are just a little bigger.

That is, on a Universal scale.

His thirst for knowledge for one. Not to sound clichéd, but it's insatiable. But again, I dunno. There's just something about him. He's an insane old bastard, but there's something about him that's... _charming_, in a way. Hypnotic. Mesmerising. Charismatic? I'm not sure. But for some reason, I can't bring myself to hate him like lots of other people do. (A/N: -ducks as readers throw items at her-)

So here I am, well on my way up to the sixty-seventh floor. After about the fortieth or so, I decided to take the elevator for the next twenty floors. Rocking backwards and forwards on my heels, nervously staring out the glass walls at the rapidly shrinking city streets below, I heard a -ding!- and my head turned back to the door as the elevator stopped five floors short of my destination. I waited for the doors to open, and resisted yelping out loud as the bald Turk with the nine piercings and sunglasses came into view.

"_Now now, Claudia," the red-haired Turk said, patting me on the head. "Rude may look mean but he's really just a big softie."_

Softie! Haha! I laughed bleakly to myself. Don't make me laugh! I bet he could still break my neck in less time than it takes to blink if he wanted to! Still, this time, at least I'm not quite as tense as I used to be.

The bald-headed Turk - Rude - walked in and nodded at me in greeting. I forced tiny smile of my own in return.

"Could you press 'up', please?" he said in his low, quiet voice, motioning upwards with his finger. I nodded a little shakily.

"Which floor?" I inquired as calmly as I could.

"Sixty-three, thank you."

I pressed the button, the doors closed, and the elevator began its ascent again. Twenty faintly awkward floors later, I slid out of the Elevator, and turned back to face the lone occupant still inside it, giving the bald Turk a silent, Wutai-style bow before the doors closed.

"Good day, sir," He gave a slight smile and a nod back.

"Good day to you too, Miss Claudia."

Then the doors closed and he disappeared from sight. I let out a slight sigh of relief, my anxiety fading away, and walked to the other side of the floor make a start on the stairs again.

Seven floors later...

Tentatively, I raised a hand to knock on the door of Professor Hojo's office. I tapped the metal surface with the crook of my index finger, fumbling with the package and almost dropping it. When no answer came, I tried knocking again. I looked up at the light above the door. It was red, so it was locked, but that meant no guarantee that someone was inside.

"Are you looking for Professor Hojo?" A voice asked. I whipped around quickly to see a young woman with short brown hair and a white lab-coat.

"Uh, yes, ma'am," I replied. "I've a delivery for him."

"Oh," the young woman smiled. "You do? He's in his Lab at the moment. Over there," she gestured towards a door with a green light over the top of it.

"Thank you, ma'am," I said, giving a little bow.

"You're welcome."

I made my way over to the Lab indicated and knocked on the door.

"Yes?" A high, clear voice called from inside. I pushed open the door and closed it behind me, standing against the wall with the package clasped in my hands. Tall, dark-haired and handsome, Professor Hojo straightened up and looked at me. He was holding his hands in front of him in the way that someone with dirty hands would. Sure enough, there were a pair of latex gloves on his hands, stained with... was that blood?

I fought down the reflexive urge to pull a face. I'm sure it wouldn't have been beyond his nature.

"Good day, Miss Freeman," Hojo greeted, pushing his glasses up with the back of his wrist. A brief, cold shudder ran down my spine. I'm serious - that man could be introduced to ten people in five seconds, meet them a year later and still recall each individual's names.

"Uh, good day, Professor Hojo, sir... I've a delivery for you," I said as politely as I could, raising the package.

"Ah, if you'll excuse me a moment - I'll be right back," Hojo nodded, probably more to himself than anybody else, and disappeared off into a back room, presumably to dispose of the gloves and wash his hands and do other Professor-like things.

I walked forwards, stepping over various cords and cables and peering into a large metal dome on my right. Imagine my shock when I saw what appeared to be a (headless!) female figure inside it! No, not quite human... I'm pretty sure that humans didn't have blue skin, not unless they'd been dyed with Copper Sulphate or something of the kind.

Soon I came to notice that there was a gentle growling somewhere in the room. As I turned to try and source it, and a huge Plexiglass capsule in the middle of the room caught my eye. In my curiosity, I began to walk towards it and almost tripped over a tangle of wires and fell backwards on the way. (You see, I'm so slick that the floor just slips out from underneath me.)

"Oh!"

I couldn't help the sudden exclamation that escaped my mouth. My hand came up to cover my mouth. A red-furred creature with a crimson mane, like a lion or a dog, lay sleeping on the floor of the glass capsule. There were various tattoos and markings on its fur (one being the numerals XIII), bracelets on its legs and various other items. Both eyes were shut, and the right one had a scar over it. At the end of its tail appeared to be a flame.

It was such a beautiful and majestic creature... And such a shame that it was held in captivity here in ShinRa! I half wanted to set it free, but it would've been unwise, since I had no idea if it was predatorial or not.

Unfortunately though, my earlier cry (although cut short by my own hand) _had_ disturbed its rest, and I shuffled backwards, watching with a sort of unease as it awoke and opened its eyes - or eye _singular_, rather.

The creature raised its head, and looked straight at me. I squeaked pitifully. The creature's orange eyes met mine, and our gazes met. For a moment we stared straight at each other without moving. If the creature was working to intimidate, then it was succeeding. For a while I forgot that there was a layer of Plexiglass dividing us. As I stared back however, I could see all manner of thoughts and emotions playing through the creature's eyes - anger, vengeance, upset - as well as a sort of intelligence that told me that this creature was more than it appeared to be. So, breaking the tension, I blinked cautiously, before trying a kind smile directed towards it.

"I- I'd release you," I said, beginning with a slight stammer. "But - if you'll forgive my ignorance - there's a chance that you could attack me... and then there's the arising of all manner of other complicated things, too. Sumimasen," and I bowed low and with great respect to the magnificent creature, lowering my gaze.

It looked at me for a while longer, blinked its orange eye, then - to my surprise - it passed a half-smile of understanding back at me, and gave a slow nod, finishing the creation of a kind of connection between us. It glanced in the direction that Professor Hojo had gone off in before resting its head on its paws and settling down to sleep once more.

The smile and the nod may have just been my imagination though. Then again... I'm not so sure I can be sure or anything I'm even _half_ sure of anymore.

"Miss Freeman," came the Professor's voice. I whirled around to face him with the faint feeling of a child caught in the act and quickly smiled.

"Yes, sir," I said. I held up the package towards him. He glanced towards the slumbering creature in the Plexiglass then looked back at me before walking forwards to receive it. (For a moment I'd panicked, wondering wildly if he'd seen the exchange between us.)

"Thank you, Miss Freeman," Hojo said, giving that crooked smile of his. I dipped my head in a reverent way.

"You're welcome, sir. Have a nice day, sir."

With a fleeting glance back at the wonderful red-furred creature in the capsule, I retraced my steps over the wires and cables strewn across the linoleum and back to the door to begin my departure and descent from the sixty-seventh level of the ShinRa building.


	8. Memories of Nibelheim

**A/N: **Oh, so you noticed then? I've changed my pen name ; )

After suffering from one of the worst cases of Lacklustre that I've had in ages I'm finally back on the job. So... here we are. A long, under-average standard, belated chapter : P

Claudia's Wutai name took a while to choose, but I'm happy with the decision I made. I think it fits her very well. By the way, 'Heishokyofusho' means Claustrophobia.

Onegai desu! **Please **help me and **send in ideas for in-ShinRa mini-stories! **I've got a few of my own and a quite nice one from my lovely sempai/beta **JK Fie'r** but they don't come in until quite some time later. You know, the mini-stories like Claudia's delivery duties : )

* * *

**Chapter 8: Interlude - Memories of... **_**Nibelheim**_

_**

* * *

**_

There's nothing quite like the feeling of being trapped in a stony, tomblike room whose walls seem to be steadily closing in on you. Especially when you're eight years old.

Yes, my claustrophobia goes quite a while back down the line; back to when I was very small for my age - smaller than in comparison to my current status, back to when Father had a part-time job at the library at the Temple, back to when my Mother Terese Freeman was still alive... and back to when I was more commonly known by my Wutai name - Morita Kazue.

Previously I've said that it was odd that I had my mother's surname. Truth be told... it's not that odd.

I'm sure that at some point in your lives, you've met people from Wutai outside of their native country. Well, have you noticed that they keep their Wutai names, or if they do have or adopt another name, they keep their original surnames? In my case - I have two names. 'Claudia J. Freeman', as I am known in outer-Wutai circles, and my Wutai name, Morita Kazue.

When introducing myself outside of Wutai, I don't generally offer what I actually consider my 'real' name to people, unless I decide that I have a strong enough bond with them to consider them as close friends or family.

Anyway - during this era when I was young and carefree; when Father would do his best not to drop an armful of old books and scrolls by tripping over that 'hell-be-damned' Temple cat and when Mother would teach me how to read maps and tell me stories from her exploring days, we would occasionally travel. And although it was never said out loud, I later guessed that it was a way for us to escape the confines of Wutai during 'that time'.

My parents disguised its true purpose for my sake, and lit the candle at both ends. So because of this, these excursions were partly as a way for me to learn the world around me, mostly on trips lasting from three days to two weeks, and always to places that Mother would have been to before.

It was in the sleepy mountain village of Nibelheim that _Heishokyofusho-san_ made himself a presence known in my life. In the last of our three-day excursion there, I met four dark-haired Nibelheim children - Nathan, Vivienne, Michael and Adelle. I'd been studying the well in the middle of town from a distance when I noticed the four of them, so close to my own age but yet so different, having an argument both on and under the branches of a Juniper tree nearby.

"Mount Nibel, I said!" the tallest boy yelled from overhead, his messy hair falling over his eyes.

"We can't go there! My mum'll have kittens!" the other boy shouted back, his own locks unkempt and at collar-length. One of the girls huffed crossly and pushed her long, straight hair back behind her shoulder.

"Oh, stop it you two! You're always arguing!" she said. The boy in the tree shot a glare at her.

"You stay out of this, Vivienne! This is between me 'n him!"

"I'm gonna tell mum you said that!"

The other girl 'hmm'ed thoughtfully and began to draw her hair back into a plait.

"Well, you know that people have died there... and somebody _did_ fall from Mount Nibel last time..." she said conversationally.

"A-ha!" the long-haired boy said smugly. The boy in the tree sent an impressive scowl in his direction.

"Wasn't it two somebodies?" the straight-haired girl asked. The plaited-girl nodded. "Cloud 'n Tifa."

It was then that the boy in the tree had looked up and noticed me. His expression changed so quickly that it was startling and he lifted a finger to point at me.

"Hey!" he said. "We were just going to look for you!"

* * *

"Eh? _Watash_ - me?" I said. Before I always used to have to say things in Wutai first before I translated it, so I could think about it (and also 'cause it makes me feel comfortable and safe), and now it's a bad habit. It's okay though, because I'm gonna grow out of it later.

The boy in the tree nodded.

"Yeah! You're not from here are you?"

"_Iya._ No."

"Where're ya from?"

I drew myself up as tall as I could.

"Wutai," I said proudly.

"Wow! That's pretty far away, ain't it, Adelle?"

"It is, Dad says it's right on the other side of the Western Continent."

"Anyways," the boy in the tree said. "Since we figured that you don't live here, we thought we might take ya somewhere special!"

I smiled. "Sankyuu." I said. The long-haired boy looked confused. Uh oh - that means my accent is getting in the way again.

"What was that?"

"She said 'thank you', stupid."

"I ain't stupid!"

"Hey! Shush! Anyways, I wanted t' go to Mount Nibel, 'cause it's pretty neat up there - "

"You're not even supposed to have gone up there before in the first place!"

"Quiet! But Michael is a wimp - "

"_I ain't no wimp!_"

"_Would you quit interrupting 'im?_"

The boy in the tree made his voice louder. " - 'n he thinks that ShinRa Manor would be a better place t' go!"

"Well if you think about it, both have equal levels of risk..."

"Always the logical thinker, aren't you, Adelle?"

"_Niburu wa doko da?_ Where is Mount. Nibel?"

"Over there!" they said, and pointed to a **really big** mountain outside of the village. It looked scary.

"_Eh to... ShinRa wa doko da?_ Where is ShinRa Manor?"

"Just in front there." they said, and pointed a **really big** 'nd old looking house at the back of the village in front of the mountain.

"_Sugoi_!"

Vivienne looked at me carefully. "Well you know, she's pretty small, Nathan. It'd be dangerous, if she fell off the cliffsides."

"Mm, well..." 'Nathan' stared at me closely. "How old are you? Six? Seven?"

"Eight," I frowned.

"Oh, sorry... ugh, alright then," he grumbled. "I just think that Mount Nibel'd be a pretty cool place to take an out-of-towner, but since you're way smaller than you look I'm not gonna be stupid enough and take a mouse like you up there."

_Nezumi_? Mouse! I huffed crossly. I am so not!

The girl with the plait walked up to me.

"My name's Adelle," she said. "And that's my brother Michael, and our cousins Nathan and Vivienne. What's your name?"

"Uh, _Kurodia_." I said. (It's not lying, is it? It's just I don't wanna use my Wutai name, because my Wutai name is special.) "Claudia."

"Claudia? Alright then. Is it okay if we take you to ShinRa Manor?"

"_Hai_. Plenty fine," I said. Adelle smiled and linked her arm in mine and started to lead me over to the other three.

* * *

I can't say that I can remember every single detail of the ShinRa Manor, but I do remember the state of the interior. It was very dusty for one, and it was a wooden structure. The rugs on the floor had long lost their colours and turned threadbare and the furniture was smeared over with dust. Vivienne sneezed a lot.

We explored all the rooms eager and delighted at the things we saw. Massive crystal chandeliers, dusty bookshelves... The boys were running around and making a general awed ruckus (which made me feel slightly uneasy), while Vivienne shouted after them and Adelle and I wandered peacefully at our own paces. I stayed as silent and quiet as I could and did my best not to touch anything, out of respect and courtesy.

They way I was raised and the country I was raised in moulded me into the superstitious mould I still retain today - you know, stuff like red being lucky, if the Lions throw the lettuce back at you at New Years you've been blessed with good luck, if you put up an umbrella inside you'll be short all your life... things like that.

It also made me aware to not just the physical world, but the spiritual aspect as well as Wutai held beliefs on - well, not really like 'ghosts' in the way that you might believe in, but just the natural awareness of the 'spirits' in things. Although myself, I've always believed in things like Incubi, Phantasms... and the personal belief that when a person dies, their 'will' is left behind in someplace significant or important to them. So while I was in the ShinRa Manor, I did my best not to disturb the 'will' of the people that might have lingered inside the ancient Mansion.

It's always best to 'Let sleeping Spirits lie'.

* * *

"Hey! I found a library!" Nathan shouted.

"Woow! It's _gigantmous_!"

"'Gigantmous' ain't a word, Vivienne."

"It is so!"

"Shh!" I said nervously. I didn't want the 'Wills' to hear us. They might be grumpy if we wake them up, like Uncle Shukaku if you wake him too early in the morning.

I walked into the Library and looked around. It was so big! There were lots of books too, and I could see another hallway. It made me a little bit sad, because some of the books were lying on the floor and there were papers from ripped-out pages too. I went closer to one of the bookshelves and stood on tippy-toes to look at some. I crinkled my nose and tried to read one of the book names out loud.

"_Jie... no... ba... Purou jie-ku-to_. Jenova Project?"

"What's that?" Vivienne asked.

"_Shiranai_." I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Where's this hallway g - Hey everyone look! It's Labora-torium room!"

"A what?"

"Come on and look! Down there, see? You know, a room that Science-people u - " -_**crack**__- _"Ahhh!"

Vivienne and Adelle and me turned around.

"What'd she tell ya!" Vivienne yelled, stomping over. "What'd she tell ya! It's just as dangerous in here as it is on Mount Nibel!"

"No it ain't! It's not like the Galian Beast is in 'ere or anythin', so pipe down!" Michael shouted. "S'just my foot went through the floor, s'all!"

* * *

And it had too. The wood must've been pretty weak where Michael had been standing because it cracked and his foot fell right through, the plank that had broken holding on by a splinter. With a bit of teamwork, we were able to pull Michael out of the hole - Nathan and Adelle pulled him up by his arms while Vivienne and I worked on freeing his leg.

"Okay! On three! Ready? One... Two... _Three_!"

"Yaah!"

With synchronised cries of '_oof_!' accompanied by the sound of a distant, echoing '_clack_!' of wood on wood, we all fell backwards onto the ground and laughed breathlessly together. That small, simple task of helping Michael had been an adventure in itself for us at that time. It doesn't really matter though whether you're a child or an adult - Humans can find such pleasures in such simple things.

* * *

"Hey, Adelle, what're ya lookin' at?"

Adelle was leaning over the hole that Michael had made with his foot.

"There's a room down here," she said.

"Huh?"

"Hey, lemme see too!"

"Take a number!"

"Stop bein' such a hog! It ain't all yours!"

...

"'S pretty big, innit?"

"What's down there?"

"I think it's a skeleton!"

"Eww! Nathan, that's gross!"

"No, really, look!"

"Can we get down there?"

"Do we have to?"

"Sure! It'll be heaps fun!"

"Wait," Adelle tugged on her brother's arm as he jumped up excitedly. "You need to fix this hole first."

"What!" Michael yelped. "There ain't no way I can do that! I ain't got the stuff I need!"

"Well, just make sure no-one notices it then." she said in the same kind of voice.

"How can I do that?"

I stood up and looked around. Sometimes when I want to hide something I put it under something, like putting my diary under my bed. But putting something _under_ something to hide it is almost the same as putting something _over_ something, so...

I went over to the desk and picked up some of the books and put them in a pile. I sneezed a bit when the dust went everywhere. Then I went back to the hole-in-the-ground and put the books over it so that no-one could see it.

"_Yatta_. It's better than a piece of paper or a rug because people can't step on it by accident and hurt themselves." I said, blowing dust off my hands. I felt so pleased with myself.

"Wow, Claudia! You're so smart!"

"Well what did you expect, Nathan? Didn't you know that _all _people from Wutai are smart?"

I was going to say that 'No, my Uncle Shukaku can be very silly sometimes', but then I remembered that this is what I think Mama calls a 'radio-type' so I didn't say anything and I just smiled and said 'thank you' in a polite voice.

* * *

I can't remember how we found that room under the library in the end, but it was most likely by means of the boys though, since they were tearing around all over the place like a couple of mad Chocobo.

I was seriously terrified that the 'Wills' (as I called them most commonly at this point in time) were going to come out and tell us off or punish us severely for disturbing their rest, so I spent most of the way trailing behind the group, constantly bowing my head and murmuring prayers and various other chants and blessings under my breath (which probably explains why I can't remember the passage).

"I found it! I found it!"

"We _both_ found it, you numbskull!"

"I ain't no numbskull! You are!"

"Quiet, you two!"

* * *

"Shh!" I said again.

"Yeah guys! _Shh_!" Nathan said. I giggled.

Vivienne and Michael opened the door and we walked into this big room with big stony walls. I walked in through the door and suddenly stopped breathing, because it was _so cold_ in there! There were five big wooden boxes... no coffins in the room. There was one right in the middle of it, and it was closed. The other four didn't have lids, but some of them had skeletons inside. I shivered because it was scary but it was also exciting at the same time. The room wasn't too big, but it wasn't too small. It was like a basement. A normal-looking basement, in a big place like ShinRa Manor (except for the coffins). That's kinda funny.

Then I looked up.

"Haha. _Mite_. Look everyone. It's the hole Michael made with his foot!" I pointed. Everyone looked up and Vivienne started laughing.

"It ain't that funny!"

"Yes it is! Yes it is!"

"Oh, shush for a moment, Viv," Nathan said. "Anyway, lets look around a bit, since that's what we came down here to do!"

"But there isn't much down here!"

"Well then we gotta look in the places where there is stuff then! Think about it! I mean, look at these," he rushed over to one of the open coffins. "These are kinda creepy, huh?"

He reached out.

"_Iya_! Don't touch it!" I said suddenly, frightened. They looked at me.

"Why not? He's dead inn'e? He ain't gonna do anythin' to hurt us."

I shook my head. "_Iya_. No, don't touch. Bad luck. Very bad luck." I was starting to speak with my accent again. I didn't mean to, but I couldn't stop it.

"He can't hurt us," Nathan said, and poked the skeleton three times. I winced and went quiet. Nathan grinned.

"See? Nothing's happenin'. It's okay!"

I tried to smile, I really did. But it wasn't enough to make me feel safe.

"C'mon, what's this big one here!"

We all went to look at the massively-massive coffin in the middle of the room. The wood wasn't polished but it was still clean, and there was barely any dust on the top of it. It was plain too, it didn't have any carvings or anything on it like some of the stuff at the Temple or Emperor Godo's Palace.

I was looking at it and Vivienne and Michael and Nathan were talking, and I heard someone breathing but ignored it, because it was just Adelle.

But then Adelle said something and I could still _hear_ the breathing, but that can't be right? Because it sounds like the breathing when someone is all relaxed or sleeping, and it's all slow and you can barely hear it, but it can't be any of the others because they were _talking_. But no-one can be in the coffin because _dead_ people are in coffins.

My friend Haruka had an older brother who once said "They're not dead, they're just being lazy" but that was only to cheer Haruka up, because it was a long time ago when Haruka was little and I wasn't born yet and Haruka's Papa had just died. And because the coffin was closed, didn't that mean that there was a dead person in it? Or maybe it was just a cat who got in and was sleeping.

Then somebody said "Lets open it!"

I thought it was a bad idea again because of the Bad Luck it could bring, but I wanted to see what or who was inside at the same time. I'd already told them about the Bad Luck, but was it my fault if they opened it and something happened because I didn't say 'no' again, or was it their fault for not listening?

We crowded around and got really close to the coffin and Michael and Nathan squeezed their fingers under the lid of the coffin and began to lift it up. And... _I could hear it!_ _The breathing!_ I couldn't see very well so I stood up on tippy-toes and held onto the side of the coffin to look inside. Michael and Nathan were still trying their best to lift the coffin-lid up because it was heavy.

Then somebody yelled and my fingers felt like they were on fire.

Then it was dark.

* * *

At that point in time I had I didn't know what had happened to me. But in retrospect, I believe that the coffin lid slammed down onto my fingers with such force that I fainted and fell to the floor, cracking my head on the stone in the process. Whether the boys accidentally dropped the coffin lid or it was forcefully and violently pulled back down I don't know, but it seems to me that both scenarios are equally as likely to have happened, and -

What?

...

Yes, I did say 'pulled back down', as if someone was inside it -

No, really, I'm serious - !

But - Ahh, wait. No wonder you're so confused, the lot of you. I haven't explained myself yet. Silly me.

* * *

"_Oh my god! We've killed 'er!"_

"_We ain't done nothin', ya hear me, we ain't done nothin'!"_

"_Then why are you shaking?"_

"_She's not moving!"_

"_It's the Bad Luck! Just like she said!"_

"_There's no such thing as Bad Luck, Cousin..."_

"_You're lyin'! Quit lying'!"_

"_We're doomed! Even Adelle's tremblin'!"_

"_It wasn't our fault! It was an accident!"_

"_She's gonna turn into a ghost 'n get us for killing her!"_

"_There's ain't no such thing as ghosts, stupid!"_

"_You'll see when she gets you!"_

"_Let's get out of here!"_

"_We can't just leave her - !"_

"_I ain't stickin' around!"_

"_Quick before she gets us!"_

"_C'mon, 'Delle, we're goin'!"_

"_Hey, wait you guys!"_

"_Aahhh!"_

_

* * *

_

I don't know how long I was asleep on the floor, but when I woke up I was confused, I didn't know where I was and I couldn't remember anything. How long was I like this? Five minutes? Ten minutes? It seemed like forever. I was all alone and lonely, and my hands hurt so badly. There was no-one else... Where was everyone?

_Minna? Doko?_

I felt so scared. The room was sooo cold... it was freezing and it felt like being outside in the snow in Wutai during Winter, only you haven't got enough clothes on. My teeth wouldn't stop chattering. I wanted to throw up.

But there was something warm... I tried to sit up and I felt so dizzy I fell right back down again, and it hurt. I couldn't see, everything was so fuzzy. But then there was the warm stuff on the side my face again. I reached up and touched the warm stuff with my hand, even though it hurt to move my fingers, and when I saw it I started to cry.

My hand was all red! It was dripping with red stuff, and I knew that it was blood. I was bleeding from my head - But that was really dangerous, wasn't it? That meant I was going to die!

Then I really wanted to throw up. I tried to roll over onto my tummy and then I threw up onto the floor, and it was clear but there was red stuff in that too. Then when I saw that it was I wanted to throw up again and again and again.

I couldn't think straight! I was so scared! I was forgetting everything!

"_Tousan!_" I screamed. "_Doko?_ _Kaasan! Kimi wa doko da?_"

I tried to get up and it hurt, but I tried again - Then I tried to run to the door but after three steps I fell back down on my right side again and hit my head on the floor again and it _hurt so much_. I started screaming and crying. Was this what it was going to be like? Was I going to die here? I couldn't move! My parents didn't know where I was!

"_Tasukete!_ _Onegai, Kami-sama, tasukete kure!_"

_(Help me! Please, God, help me!)_

I couldn't stop screaming. I couldn't stop crying. It hurt so bad! Everything hurt so much! In my left eye everything was going dark but in my right eye all I could see was red and it was getting redder and redder - and I could _feel_ it, the room was getting smaller - it was going to get smaller and smaller right until it crushed me into little pieces... I couldn't breathe, my heart was beating so fast and there was something rising in my throat and making it close up...

_(Help me, please! God, please, help me! I don't want to die!)_

_

* * *

_

And then somebody gave a low growl.

"_Stop your _crying_, wretched child._"

Even in my half-conscious and badly disorientated state, through my screaming and crying, I could still make out those two sounds.

"_D-dare?_ I wailed, twisting my head wildly and blindly from side to side. "_ Dare desu ka_? _Onegai, tasukete kure!_"

When I say I was forgetting everything, I _mean_ I was forgetting everything. God knows if I even knew my own name at that point. Everything had just been wiped from my mind because I thought I was going to die.

There was a sudden scraping and crashing sound, as if something had been violently shoved off something to collide with the floor. I was coughing and gasping for breath, and there was a puddle of crimson beginning to pool around my head.

The sound of someone sitting up, and the half-stunned silence from them afterwards.

"... _What in God's name happened to you_?"

My voice dropped from screaming to whimpering painfully, my mouth opening and closing in silent howls of agony. It hurt too much. My chest, my head, my heart... The right side of my face was dripping with blood and my head felt like it was on fire.

Metal on stone. Metallic footsteps? Could that be right? Maybe tap-dancing shoes... no, it isn't a 'tak'. Just... metal.

I'm vaguely aware of someone pushing me onto my back and peering into my eye, touching my face with a leather-gloved hand.

"_What happened, little Wutai girl? You've concussed yourself, and badly._"

I'm sure that if I'd been my usual spunky self, I'd have replied with an indignant "I didn't do it on purpose!"

Brushing bloodstained hair away from my eyes... I could see again out of my right side, briefly, and my glazed, widened eye met with an elongated red one set in a handsome, pale-skinned, face. Long black hair...

(_Wutai?_)

But it didn't matter who this person was right now. They had to get out of here! Couldn't they tell? The walls were still closing in! We're going to be crushed! Can't they see?

Arms came under my knees and around my arms and lifted me up. I desperately reached out and my hand fisted around soft, moth-eaten cloth. I might've been the blood, but I'm sure that I saw that I was holding onto a cloak - A cloak of deep-crimson, the colour of which I'd never seen the likes of before.

The person holding me grunted, and said roughly, but not unkindly "_Don't fall asleep._" and started walking. And... God be praised! We're out of that tiny tiny room - it can't close in on me anymore!

I gave a weakened smile of relief. Blood continued to trickle from the gash on the side of my head and into my hair, soaking it with the warm, liquid substance.

Something sharp and pointy jabbed me in the leg. Like the tip of a claw. I winced. My position was shifted slightly in my 'saviour's hold.

(_Wh-where are we going? Where are you taking me? Who are you?_)

Up, going up... Upstairs? Where would upstairs lead to? Rooms... I've seen these rooms before. But where?

_Remember? You were just in here, a while ago._)

Oh... yes. But why? I can't remember...

A door was kicked open and this person kept on walking and I could _tell_, we were outside! He'd done it! This person - he'd done it! We'd escaped that mansion that was getting smaller and smaller and smaller until it was going to disappear off the face of the Planet -

"_Kazue!_"

Oh... I know that voice. Whose is it?

"_Kazue! Doko?_"

They're looking for me. I can tell. But who is it?

"_Kazue!_"

Oh... oh! It's mother! That's mother's voice!

"_Kaasan,_" I said dreamily, smiling, reaching out for the voice. "_Kaasan, you're here!..._"

"_Kazue, dok - Oh my god! Kazue!_"

"_Ma'am, this is your child?_"

It sounded to me more a statement than a question. But that didn't matter because here I was with mother again! Everything was going to be alright now... Everything's going to be okay...

* * *

Mama contacted Papa straight away, then went to seek medical help from one of the people in Nibelheim. Mama knew her basics about medicine and illnesses and things like that from her exploring days, but a concussion was out of her hands - however, the local village doctor was not there, and Mama was knocking on the doors of houses and asking for assistance.

One of the villagers directed my mother to a house nearby, where the widowed, single mother who lived there used to work as a nurse. She cleaned up my face and my hair and inspected the wound on my head, declaring that it was in need of stitches. 'Fortunately' because of my semiconscious state I was barely aware of the happenings around me, and so the stitches were done up and my head was bandaged without much fuss.

* * *

"_You can count yourself lucky that her condition wasn't worse. She could've fallen into a coma and then we'd be in big trouble."_

"_How bad is it at the moment?"_

"_Nothing that should do any permanent lasting damage physically, although the mental and emotional state of things may be a little shaken."_

"_What happened to her, Ma?"_

"_She hit her head, sweetie."_

"_How?"_

"_I don't know, Cloud, dear. Maybe she fell."_

"_I suppose it's a little fortunate that this was our last day here. When we go back home we can see a doctor."_

"_Yes, that'd be the best. Cloud, what are you doing?"_

"_Just a minute, Ma - _Cure_!"_

_(Oh... such a lovely warm feeling around the wound...)_

"_Oh!"_

"_Cloud! Where did you get that Materia?"_

"_It doesn't matter, does it? She's all better now!"_

"_Just a little bit better, sweetie, not _all _better."_

"_Ha ha!"_

"_I'm sorry..."_

"_No, don't be. Thank you, Cloud."_

"_You're welcome!"_

_

* * *

_

I never really did tell my parents what _actually _happened to me that day. I just said that I jammed my fingers and fainted and hit my head on the floor. It wasn't a lie, so I didn't need to feel any guilt - however, it wasn't all the truth either, so I was feeling a little bit guilty. But knowing that I never got those four Nibelheim kids into trouble came as a bit of a relief to me - I hated getting other people in trouble. _That_ always made me feel guilty.

My parents didn't push the matter though, and just left it as it was. "So long as you're alright now" they said.

Physically, I was fine. I got better. Mentally though - well, that's still a battle I'm still struggling to get through.

-_ding_-

"_Floor number sixty-three._"

Oh, thank God!

* * *

**A/N: UGH.** Vincent is a _terrible_ character to work with! No matter what you do, he just doesn't _care_! I had at least three or four different spins for this chronicle before I found one which would make him actually _do _something.

Near your PlayStations? Good. Turn on FFVII. Go to Nibelheim. Go to the Library at ShinRa Manor. . Notice the stack of books on the floor to the right of where Cloud usually stands/the corridor? Well, that's where the hole in the floor is.

In case you didn't guess before it was mentioned, yes, Claudia got a nasty case of concussion. I've never had a concussion, let alone fainted or knocked myself unconscious, so my facts are probably not all right. By the way, I think that screaming is the the body's natural reaction to blocking out pain and reality.

Before I go - I am announcing a '**competition**' soon open to **absolutely anyone who wishes to partake** in it. I think you'll quite enjoy it - I know I will. The link is in my Profile. Cheers.


	9. Silence and Motion

**A/N: **A thousand apologies! -deepbow- I've just been suffering from the worse case of Writers' Block I've ever had. But Happy 20th Anniversary of Final Fantasy!

Ahh. No-one entered my competition in the end. ;/But... 1500 hits! Thank you so much, readers : )

Kaoru's character was based on Morita from 'Honey and Clover', although I named him after his older brother. I took Claudia's surname 'Morita' from this, and I took 'Ken'ichi' (as in, Morita Ken'ichi, Claudia's father) from Suzumura Ken'ichi, Zack's Japanese seiyuu.

Thank you, **JK Fie'r**, for plot help x3

Um, very vague mention of Crisis Core spoilerage?

* * *

**Chapter 9: Silence and Motion**

**

* * *

**

Floor number 48 of the ShinRa Building is one of the floors 'belonging' to the Department of Urban Development – In particular, to Mr. Reeve Tuesti, the Head of this particular section. Mr. Tuesti is charged with the duty of seeing to it how the city runs and the people live, plate and slums alike. (At least, I _think_ he does the slums as well...)

…

Yeah, well, okay, the floor's not _all_ his, but that's where his office is located. And his office was where I was currently headed, with the second-to-last delivery for the night nestled comfortably under my arm. Through the plastic wrapping I can feel a folder - a common deadweight in my delivery satchel on a regular, daily (hourly?) basis.

Very rarely, we get the odd birthday present or two sent in from outside sources to the employees in the building. Very, _very_ rarely. It's a strange and foreign feeling when things like that do come in, as an oppose to the usual ringbinder or manilla folder, but it's a nice feeling all the same.

But that information isn't really relevant at the moment, because this time around it is a common ringbinder. I'll get back to you when I do have to deliver something festive though.

There came an incessant tapping on the windows on the north-side of the building, at first slowly, then gradually gaining in speed and numbers until it was an orchestrated cacophony of noises conducting frenzied rhythms onto the glass and blurring the outlines of the evening sky.

"Oh, blast," I cursed softly to myself, watching the rain come down. And I didn't even have an umbrella or anything with me. Ugh.

I reached the office and knocked on the door.

"Come in," Mr. Tuesti's low and somewhat soothing voice called out. I opened the door and stepped inside. The vast and spacious office was lovely and warm, organised, clean and tidy and not a thing seemed out of place. Well, okay - there was only one thing out of place, but that was only in comparison to the file cabinets and the large potted plants.

It was a black and white cat sitting propped up against one corner - and although it didn't look quite real it was still quite adorable. It had a little red bandanna tied around it's shoulders (yep, by the looks of things it was a bipedal cat), a little golden crown on it's head, white gloves on its hands (no, you haven't suddenly gone dyslexic) and little red boots on its feet. Aww.

Anyway - I digress.

"A delivery for you, Mr. Tuesti, sir," I said, holding out the package.

Mr. Tuesti smiled and put down his pen,accepting it politely and courteously (Mr. Tuesti is quite the gentleman). A fleeting glimpse of his desk and told me that he'd been writing out a cheque prior to my arrival.

"Thank you, Miss... Freeman, wasn't it?"

"Yes, sir." I replied, and offered a little bow-curstey hybrid. (I really should stop doing that...)

"Yes. Thank you, Miss Freeman."

'You're welcome, sir."

Mr. Tuesti glanced up at the clock on the wall to his left. So did I.

"It's getting late, for a Delivery girl. Shouldn't you be heading off home soon?"

"H-huh? Oh - yes, sir. I've just got one more delivery to go and then can I clock off."

"Better be quick," Mr. Tuesti said kindly. "That rain looks like it's only going to get worse."

* * *

And was he right. By the time I had finished my second and last delivery, the rain had begun to come down in sheets. I suppose it was fortunate that I had my coat with me to keep me dry. My lovely, beige cashmere coat. My lovely, beige, _favourite_ cashmere coat which was about to become very, very wet.

I grumbled slightly and briefly paused to study my reflection in a corridor mirror as I passed it by. Face clean, parting straight, shirt straight, buttons right - everything fine... except for that one teensy weensy little fact that reminded me that my eyes were most definitely not blue. So I did a double-take and went back to stand in front of the mirror again.

I blinked. My reflection blinked too, a little while later. Then it smiled.

"Hi," it said. I blinked again.

"Hi."

Blink. My eyes are brown again.

* * *

So I get back home, wet as a dog (about as disgruntled as one too), not quite bothered enough to turn on the lights and lovely cashmere coat... well, not quite so lovely at the moment. Best to hang that up in the hot-water cupboard for now.

Francis hadn't returned yet by the time I got back (which made me a little worried, but it was raining, you know? So maybe more people would've flocked to the Soup Kitchen than usual) and no-one had broken in or anything (not that I could see of) so I came back to an effectively empty apartment.

I went to get a towel to dry my hair and heard the front door open and promptly slam shut again. This was followed by a series of murmured curse words and the sound of somebody fumbling with a set of keys.

"Francis?" I said, my voice muffled by the towel. (Where's that hairbrush? Oh, it's in my room.)

"That you?"

"Who else could it be, sweetheart?" Francis' airy reply came drifting from the front room. I stumbled my bedroom in the dark, the towel draped over my shoulders. (Ah, there it is.)

"You're late," I commented, roughly brushing the tangles out of my hair. Francis gave a dry, hollow laugh, not like his usual laugh at all.

"I am, aren't I? Sorry. Got a little bit held up."

Something about the curt way he delivered that last sentence stopped me cold. I lowered the hairbrush and went out into the front room.

"Francis?" I said.

"Yes, love?"

"Is everything okay?"

Francis' silhouetted shoulder gave a brief, unnatural jerk.

"Yeah, fine. Why do you ask? I'm going to have a shower now. Is that all right?"

I reached out beside me to turn on the light.

"No, Claudia - !"

I gave a half-scream and dropped the hairbrush. _Blood_. It was smeared over his hands and his face and some was even matted in his hair. His clothes were torn, his shirt was ripped and had partially fallen open and there was a gash on his left arm, and as several painful looking bruises marring his chest and neck.

Francis gave a long, groaning sign and walked forwards, reaching out to turn the light off again.

"I _told _you..."

The initial shock of seeing my flatmate in his beaten, bruised and bloody state quickly wore off and I seized his arm.

"Francis, what happened to you - !"

"It's nothing. Okay?"

"This isn't nothing, this is major!"

"No, it's not, alright? Everything's fine, it's all over and done now."

"Who did this to you?"

"I shouldn't tell you. You'll go looking for them, then you'll be in a worse condition than me. Besides, they looked racist."

"Francis, I'm being serious here!"

"And so am I!" Francis said loudly. I immediately shut my mouth. Francis closed his eyes, exhaled slowly through his nose and laid his hands on my shoulders.

"Look, Claudia?" he stared straight into my eyes. "Everything's fine. It's nothing I can't handle by myself. I was coming home from the Kitchen, I was in the slums and I was mugged. It happens, it's not uncommon. Just... don't do anything rash. Okay? Investigation further will be a fruitless gesture. I'll get it all sorted out. I promise."

"You mean it won't happen again?" I asked abruptly.

"Pardon?"

"You mean you'll avoid it next time?"

He gave a soft half-smile.

"Yes, Claudia. Everything's going to be alright. Now if you don't mind me, I'm going to go and have a shower."

It wasn't until later that I realised that he hadn't actually answered my question.

* * *

While Francis had told me that I wasn't allowed to question further on his 'mugging' incident, it didn't mean that I wasn't allowed to think over it myself. Yes, muggings in the slums weren't uncommon, but there was something that just wasn't quite... _right_ about Francis' situation, you know? I dunno, it just seemed too... too clever and brutal to have just been a mugging.

And so over the next few days I pondered over it, working at my usual pace but slightly distracted by the possible thoughts and explanations running through my mind.

"Claudia? Hey! Are you listening?"

I broke out of my reverie with an almost audible -snap- and looked at Kaoru.

"I'm sorry," I apologised. "What was it you said?"

He grinned. "Actually, I said that this morning my head fell off and I tried to sew it back on with dental floss..."

"Excuse me?"

"But it didn't quite catch your attention, so I guess it doesn't matter. So," Kaoru turned back to the vending machine. "What _are_ you thinking about?"

"Well, actually..." I mused to myself. Should I tell Kaoru? Or was this a private matter to be kept between myself and Francis? I decided on the latter, settling instead for a not-quite lie. "I was just wondering if I've told you my real name before."

"Your real name, eh? Sounds like something out of a spy novella." Kaoru smacked the side of the vending machine with the flat of his palm. "I don't think you have though, no."

"No, I didn't think I had," I replied. "It's Morita. Morita Kazue."

Kaoru turned his head to look back at me, smiling. "Kazue - Branch, first blessing, harmonious. It fits you." he nodded approvingly. "I like it. Now this vending machine on the other hand..." he turned back to it again and growled at it, hitting it again. "Come on! Give me my coffee!"

"You're doing it all wrong," I told him, rising from my position against the corridor wall. Walking over to the vending machine (which stated COFFEE in big white letters), I kicked it hard in the front. Immediately, a can of steaming coffee thunked into the deposit slot and a handful of loose change tumbled into the tray. Kaoru looked impressed. Taking his change and the can, being careful not to burn himself, he raised it up to eye level as if studying it.

"Neat trick," he commented. "You'll have to teach me that sometime."

* * *

Maybe it was a gut instinct that made me take a different route home the following week, or maybe it was just the will of a higher power. But whatever it was, I'm just glad I did it. It was a bit of a lonelier route than usual... what can I say? I choose paths with more people. It makes me feel more secure, and safe.

Anyway, I digress. Walking on the colder, 'lonelier' path through Sector Eight that evening proved to be one of the best things I ever did. Hurriedly making my way back to the apartment, I overheard a conversation coming from the street's end, nearer the shadowed end of the square.

"Give up the _gil_, Milton!"

"God! I _told_ you guys already, I haven't got it all yet!"

"Don't you_ f-king_ give us that_ sh-t_! You live a cushy _apartment_ life, you get _paid_ every _month_, and it's _plenty _to keep your _rent_ paid and your _life_ - _going_! _Give us the money!_"

Each word stressed was punctuated with a exertion and a grunt of pain. Having come from a faintly religious backstanding, I can't help but think back and wince at some of the wording - But there and then, standing frozen where I stood, I couldn't help but think:

_Isn't Francis's surname Milton?_

Numbly, I diverted off the path and turned down the street. What I saw made me stop cold.

Francis was down on the ground, bruised, bleeding and beaten. Blood trickled down his chin and from his temple, and he scowled up at the brutes surrounding him, clutching his side. He looked even worse than last time.

And somewhere in the recesses of my mind I saw:

_A young man downed, wounded, bleeding _-

(_Mako, blood, fire -_ )

(_No! Stop! This isn't that. This isn't Wutai - this is Midgar. Think of the here and now._ _It's not a mugging. Look closely; It's a confrontation.)_

Oh, Odin! What do I do!

(_Stop it! Breathe! Calm down. You already know what to do._ _Right?_)

A wave of adrenaline washed over me. My thoughts became lucid, and my intent became clear. Finding my voice, and my feet, I ran forwards towards the scene.

"Hey!" I shouted. "Hey!"

Not the most eloquent of entrances, but this isn't some story, so pay close attention.

The men all looked to me, Francis included.

"C-Claudia! What the hell are you doing here?" he shouted. He sounded furious, but I knew better.

"What's this, Milton? You got yourself a chick?" one of the four thugs (_such_ an auspicious number!) said crudely. I flushed angrily and stopped a distance in front of them, keeping a strong aura with my hands on my hips and my head held high.

"Watch who you're calling 'chick', buster!"

Francis staggered to his feet, still clutching his side. He looked more incensed now than he had been, and he tried to push past to me, but the men were forming a blockade, cutting him off from me.

"Claudia, get the _hell _out of here! You don't know what you're doing!"

I didn't move. Slowly, I moved into a fighting stance, my left foot forward and both fists tight and at my right side. Francis shouted the worse line of swear words I've ever heard anyone say.

"_F_-_ck_, Claudia! This isn't one of your story books! Stop trying to be the hero - "

One of the thugs turned and slugged him across the face, and he stumbled backwards, almost falling back over again.

And at that moment all that ran through my mind was a _senseless violence is wrong, wrong, wrong_...

(_Weapons? Crowbar. Knife. Baseball bat. Short-range. Alright then. Not too bad. You can outsmart these guys, no problem._)

I nodded to myself reassuringly, a look of deep concentration on my face and opened my mouth.

"I might not have any weapons," I said. "And I might not have anything like a knuckle-duster, and I certainly don't have any pepper spray. But I'll tell you what I have got."

I reared my head up high. "Six years of self defense and Martial Arts in Wutai!" I blurted out. "I was the best in my class!"

The men laughed. I couldn't blame them, it was the most retarded thing I'd ever heard in my life too.

Then I twisted my body and thrust my right arm up over my head and pulled my left fist back against my left side, tensing my muscles and drawing in a short breath. "_Osu_!"

The men lunged for me.

But I was prepared. (_Quick on your feet, one two_ - ) With agility that I didn't know I possessed, I spun, twisted and dodged past the men. They protested foully, and tried to reach out to grab me but I slipped out of their grasp. Darting forwards, I grabbed Francis by the arm and hissed into his ear:

"_Run!_"

* * *

"How many... more Potions?"

"None. This one's the last."

"... I'm sorry. I'm wasting all your stock."

"It's alright. I can go by the Item store on my way to work tomorrow and get some more."

I continued to bandage Francis' wounds quietly, doing my best not to cause him too much pain.

"I'll reimburse you for it." Francis offered. "I'll pay you back for all the trouble you've gone to."

"Well, I'll tell you what you can do." I stretched the butterfly clip over the bandage ends and rocked back on my heels to look up at him. "You can give me an explanation. For all of this, what just happened."

Francis' shoulder gave that unnatural jerk again from last time. "... That thing you said? About having six years of martial arts under your wing? Was it true?"

"Francis, please don't try and change the subject," I said. With a sigh, Francis turned his head away.

"I don't know who those men are. But I do know what they want." he said. I nodded for him to continue. "Apparently, my dad... came from Sector Six. The stupid bastard borrowed money from other people and almost never paid them back. Well, they want theirs back now, and when they found me about a month ago it just so happened that I look 'just like him'. So they say I gotta pay them back."

I sat up abruptly. "How much?"

Francis began "This is why I didn't want to tell you..."

I retaliated with "The faster the debt is paid back the faster you'll recover without adding any more injury. Francis, please let me help you."

For a long time he hesitated. "... 985 000 gil."

I swallowed back my shock. "How much have you got already?"

"450 000. Not even halfway."

I stood up so abruptly I almost fell over, which would have spoiled my display of spontaneity.

"I can do it. I'll help you - I'll work late nights, I'll do odd jobs. I'll do anything." I paused. "Except prostitution."

"Sweet Shiva, no!"

"No to my offer or no to prostitution?"

"Both!"

"Francis, just let me help you. Just... for once, put your pride aside and just let someone _help_ you."

"Claudia, I grew up in the slums. My mother was a drunk - I've spent my whole life taking care of myself and I think I can push myself along just a little longer - "

"_Don't_," I burst out forcefully. Francis was shocked into silence. "... Make me kick you. Francis, it's lovely to know that chivalry isn't dead, and that you're so courteous and so sure that you can take care of yourself, but I'm being serious here. The faster that debt is paid of, the sooner you'll be able to come home without looking like you just fell under the knife at work. You can do however you see fit afterwards - you can pay me back or you can kill me for interfering if you'd rather prefer."

There was a long, lengthy pause. Finally, Francis lifted his head, raised a finger and pointed it determinedly at me.

"I will pay you back, if it takes me the rest of my life," he said.

I smiled.

* * *

Those next few weeks I worked harder than I would've thought possible. I ran as fast as I possibly could, delivered into the latest hours that I possibly could, came in and did as many extra jobs on _Sundays_ as I possibly could and did everything that I possibly could to help Francis overcome his - his father's - debt problem. I was working myself crazy, but on the plus side, I with my own efforts had bumped Francis' total up by 250 000 gil by by two and a half weeks... and I was becoming very - maybe even a little too - fit. If that is possible.

Francis was worried that I had compromised my own safety by stepping in on 'his fight' - as a result, he ended up accompanying me to work in the mornings when he could. On the fourth day, Francis bought me a flower we passed a Flower Seller on the border of Sector Three. It was the same young woman that I'd seen once before, who had sold a bouquet of flowers to a group of young children.

"I offer you this flower," Francis said to me soberly, as soon as he'd purchased it. "As a token of my appreciation. Hopefully, unlike this flower, you will not be cut down in your prime and your corpse displayed as a gesture of thanks and affection."

* * *

Now the third week was a little bit of a different matter here - Although I was becoming very fit, I was also becoming very tired, as my body hasn't really always been meant for... _endurance_, as such. I tried to keep on running, I really did, but when your legs feel like lead and your head feels like it's about to explode it's really really hard.

Now what I said previously, about having six years of experience in Martial Arts and self-defense in Wutai was true (Rule no. 1 of SD - Never engage in a fight unless you have to) but I was by no means the best in my class. Clumsy, a little scatterbrained, often uncoordinated and one of the smallest in the class, it's a wonder I ever gained my Yellow belt.

Anyway, let's just put the past aside for now.

As I had handed over a package for the Vice President to Theresa she looked over in the general direction of the voices coming from the office next-door and said "The President sent Vice President Rufus on another business trip to Junon again."

I tried not to squeel at the mention of his name and instead let out a sigh. "I guess maybe they really do hate each other," I mumbled. Theresa gave a lopsided smile.

"Have you ever heard shouting coming from the President's office? When it's not the President himself shouting down the phone, it's actually Vice President Rufus shouting back at him."

"Ouch. Gutsy."

"Yes. Actually, you know..." Theresa trailed off thoughtfully. "I'd say, ooh, back about maybe seven or eight years ago when I was just an ordinary Secretary, there was another blond-haired man here who was a very hard worker."

"Oh?"

"Right. His name was... Lazard, that was it. His name was Lazard, and he had blond hair about," she gestured a hand across the top of her shoulder. "This long and glasses. I think the frames were blue. Wasn't a half bad dresser either - He made white trousers and pinstriped blazers look good," she winked slyly at me. "He wore a cravat too. Not too many people you see nowadays wear cravats. Not that bad of a looker, in my opinion."

"Erm, I think that was more information that I wanted to know."

"Oh, sorry. Fangirlish impulses. Anyway, he was the Executive Manager of the old SOLDIER Union. He was being promoted maybe at least once or even twice a year. No doubt about it, he was working to become Vice President."

"What happened?" I asked, curious. Theresa shrugged.

"He just... vanished. Disappeared. About five or six years ago now. People reckon he slipped off to Wutai during, well," she nodded at me, considerate of my origins. "' That time', when no-one was looking. There was a rumour back then that the President had another son, as the result of a fling he'd had with a woman from the slums. I think that child was Lazard."

"Another Shinra!" I exclaimed.

"Yeah. I don't think the President was aware of that though. But, the past is past now," she smiled dreamily. "So there's not much use lingering over it. God bless him though, wherever he may be."

"You're well informed," I commented.

"What can I say? I picked up a lot of gossip back in the day. Ah, sweet nostalgia. (Oops, now I'm starting to sound old.)"

Another Shinra, I mused to myself as I stepped outside. But... Wutai? During 'that time'? Blond hair, glasses, pinstriped blazer, cravat... And a memory a very long time ago about a tall, handsome blond man who had come to our country in order to speak with Emperor Godo.

Gah! Brain! Ache!

It's bad to think this much when you're under so much stress! I scolded myself mentally as I banged my head against the opposite wall, trying to knock the headache (and it's reinforcements) away. Like trying to fight fire with fire, it did nothing to stop the imaginary jackhammer tearing through my skull.

It was then I became aware of the threads of conversation and the sound of a door opening. And it wasn't Theresa's door. But that meant - Uh oh!

I ducked into a niche in the wall where - I imagine - there once used to be a water cooler, or a photocopier, judging by its size. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible. That is my way of the ninja.

Two people, judging from the voices. One more animated and the other rather... begrudging, I would say. But five people judging from the footfalls. Wait... three people! Three people and an animal and and luggage. Animal! Oh god! I forgot the Vice President had a pet Cœurl!

I squeezed myself further back into the recess and tried to silence my breathing. Just walk past, I don't exist at the moment.

There's... oh! There's Vice President Rufus! There's a light frown etched on his face. A chrome suitcase is loosely held by his left side and his right hand is twisted into the fur of the black Cœurl is at his right. And two black suits behind him - Oh snap. It just had to be those two. Keep walking.

Vice President Rufus walks past without seeing me. Good. Big, bald Turk on his left side, furthest from me walks past. I don't know if he's seen me or not though, that's the thing about shades. Now, just two more and we'll be on our way -

"Claudia!"

Inwardly, I panic. Outwardly, I freeze. Mentally, I say to myself: Sweet Leviathan! What is it _with_ these encounters?

All eyes on me. Fan-crapping-tastic. (OMG THE VICE PRESIDENT'S LOOKING AT ME ASDKJHFJKD)

For the red-haired Turk's benefit, I try and offer a weak smile. Who knows, this irrational fear may be waning a little. Possibly.

The Vice President's looking at me. And he doesn't look too impressed. Twitch.

"So, what brings you to this niche in the woods, yo?" the red-haired Turk - Reno - said cheerfully, turning to face me and shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

"Uh, tying my shoelace," I lied quickly. Did y'see that? I _lied_. To a _Turk_. Oh my God am I so going to hell for this.

Reno looked down at my feet and then glanced back up at me, obviously trying to contain laughter behind an amused, incredulous, lopsided grin.

It would've been a plausible excuse, had my shoes had laces.

Thank heavens nobody else could see.

Blushing heavily, I averted eyes away from the Turk currently trying his best not to laugh at me - and met with the gaze of Vice President Rufus. I stiffened, and looked away again. I locked eyes with the black Cœurl, which kinda looked like it wanted to eat me. I suddenly found the carpet at my feet very interesting. In fact, it was almost the same shade of crimson as my face.

"Hm..." I could _feel_ the red-haired Turk gaze flicking between me and the gorgeous, blond-haired, blue-eyed man by his side. (WOAH. I did _not_ just say that.) And suffice to say, I think he joined the dots. Grabbing me around the waist and all but dragging me out of the alcove he gestured to the other two to keep walking and drawled, "C'mon, Little Mouse. Let's go see Rufus off to Junon."

I let out a small and terrified yelp and tried to quite literally dig my heels in.

* * *

Without the hand on my shoulder continuously driving me forwards, I'd have dropped into a little ball on the ground, probably begging not to be killed. Why did I feel faintly, well, _dirty_ at the fact that a Turk was touching me?

The destination was the Helipad at the top of Shinra HQ. Unfortunately the only way to the Helipad was through the President's office. Which is just plain damn huge by the way. Fortunately, the President was out for the meanwhile. Which saved me a little bit, since I never have and - if I'm lucky - never will meet the man with a shout loud enough to challenge and drown out ten foghorns.

The Shinra-issue tank with a propeller - I mean, helicopter, was out ready waiting for Vice President Rufus. The bald-headed Turk - Rude - handed a case of luggage to an attendant who already had his shades and earmuffs on and Reno drew a set of keys out of his pocket and dropped it into the left breast pocket of Vice President Rufus' double-breasted jacket. He patted the pocket cheerfully: "Keys to the accommodation, yo," he said, and ruffled the Vice President's hair in an almost affectionate matter. "Don't have too much fun without us now, yo."

"Hmph. I'll try and save some confetti for you." Vice President Rufus replied, sweeping his hair back into place and offering a brief smile.

I'd never seen Vice President Rufus genuinely smile before. In fact, few probably have. All his publicity photos and public appearances were usually marked by a scowl or an impassive expression, and occasionally even a smirk. But never before a genuine _smile_. However, all in all, it was a very nice smile. Or is 'sultry' a better term to fit?

Then I felt something brush against my legs and I almost jumped out of my skin. I look down and noticed with some surprise the the Cœurl was encircling me and flicking its tail against my legs, much in the manner of a cat. Well, I thought to myself, it's no so strange. After all, Cœurl and Felines probably do have the same ancestors.

"Would y'look at that," Reno said. "He likes you!"

I heard Vice President Rufus chuckle lightly and I flushed pink. "Come, Dark Nation," he said, beckoning to the Cœurl - a 'come hither' motion that I recognised as the one we use in Wutai, with the hand down and palm facing towards ourselves.

The Cœurl obediently responded to its master's call and Vice President Rufus looked up at me.

"Good day to you, miss," he said, dipping his head in a polite way. I gave a bow in return. "And you, Mr. Vice President, sir."

Would you look at that! I managed not to squeak. I am so proud of myself.

The attendant put Vice President Rufus' luggage into the Helicopter, and the pilot started up the engine. The Cœurl, Dark Nation, leapt up into the Helicopter and - to my amusement - had earmuffs placed over its ears by the attendant. Vice President Rufus stepped up into the Helicopter and placed his briefcase on the floor at his feet before putting on a pair of earmuffs himself. The door slid closed and Vice President Rufus looked out the window and briefly waved a hand in farewell. Reno began to wave spiritedly and I saw that even the bald-headed Turk - Rude - gave a sort of salute in return.

"Wave to Rufus, Little Mouse," Reno said brightly. Hesitantly, I raised a hand, then Reno grabbed my wrist and began to wave it just as energetically as he was waving his own. Embarrassed, I let him wave it a while longer before he dropped it and turned to face me, his hands on his hips.

"Now then," he began in a happy - too happy - tone of voice. Uh oh, I thought worriedly. This can't end well.

"It seems to me that a certain Little Mouse has a crush on our Rufus."

I squirmed uncomfortably, and chanced a cheeky reply. "It's not against Company Standard Policy, is it?"

Reno let out a shout of laughter and clapped me on the back, knocking the wind out of me. "Of course not, yo! But it is the cutest thing I ever saw in my life! How long's he been the apple of your eye?"

"Reno, stop harassing her," Rude frowned. Reno gave a dramatic sigh.

"Aww, c'mon, Rude! I gotta know all the juicy gossip, yo!"

I could have died. Right there.

* * *

"You have earned approximately 270 000 gil by your own efforts and have bumped the total amount of gil acquired up to 720 000. I - _love_ - you."

I smiled and let Francis hug me tightly. "What about the gil you've earnt?"

Francis fell back and gave a sheepish smile. "With my earnings added on, the total makes 850 000 gil."

"Francis, that's wonderful!" I exclaimed. "We'll have gotten enough money in no time!"

"Heh," he laughed and pulled me in for another hug. "Well, you know. It's generally not regular pay. I'm lucky I get paid at all, I guess."

"Which brings me to the question," I said, settling down more comfortably on the couch. "How come it is that you get paid? I was under the impression that Soup Kitchenhands were voluntary workers."

"Oh, they are!" Francis nodded affirmatively, letting go of me. "However, the anonymous benefactor who regularly sends us cheques to keep the Soup Kitchen up and running often adds some extra money for the workers."

"'Anonymous benefactor'? You mean you don't know who it is?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Rumour says, it's someone inside Shinra," Francis winked at me. "But don't say you heard it from me, eh?"

I laughed. "Well, just keep on working hard. Maybe he'll see how much weight you're pulling around and you'll get just a little bit more."

"Hey now, don't make me sound like a leech!"

Little did either of us know how the drastically the next night would change our - Midgar's - lives.


	10. Only a Plank between One and Perdition

**A/N: **Eh... sorry about the hysterically long wait. I've been bogged down with school and so on. Thanks for the reviews, though, and those for my 'Rhapsodos: Desiderata' fic :)

Sorry for the chapter ending where it does, but it'd have been twice as long as this if I'd continued with it and the events following it any longer. So... sorry. -cough-

The character Emi belongs to Scribbie. Go check out her story, 'a solid definition'! :)

I am seriously thinking about changing the title of this story. Suggestions?

* * *

**Chapter 10: Only a Plank Between One and Perdition**

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* * *

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His leg was in a cast and was propped up on a pillow. Bandages were wound around his arms, chest and stomach, and another was wrapped around his head and over his left eye. He looked bruised, tired and haggard, and although he tried his best to smile for me, I could see through the thin façade.

"Don't try and pretend," I said to him. He jerked his head to the side, in a shadowed imitation of a shake of ones head.

"I en't pretending, sweetheart," he said, smiling hazily, a trace of slum accent slipping into his voice. I stared at him a while longer, then gave a soft sigh, leaning forwards onto the bed and resting my head on my arms. The sound of beeping machines filled my ears and background murmur filtered through the walls.

When Francis' body began to shake I thought he was having a seizure, and panicked. But when I quickly sat up and looked to him, saw the tears running down his face and soaking the bandages around his eye, saw how terribly sad and heartbroken he was, the fear in my heart subsided and was replaced by a heavy, leaden weight instead.

"Oh, Claudia," he wept. "Claudia, what am I going to do?

"I'm out of a job. I've no source of income. I've got a week left to pay off the debt..."

* * *

I should've guessed that the day was only going to get worse from 'that' event.

* * *

That morning, Francis had slept in. I'd let him, because it'd been a long day and he was tired and worn out from working so hard. He was still sleeping when I slipped out of the house and began to make my way to work.

It was a calm and tranquil morning. As I wandered along, a Shinra MP Commander walked up beside me and raised a hand to his forehead in the courteous gesture of a gentleman tipping his cap to a lady.

"Good mornin', miss," he said politely. He spoke with a pleasant Kalm accent. His eyes weren't visible past the helmet but I could see that his affable mannerisms were sincere.

"O-oh. Good morning, Mr. Commander, sir," I returned, putting on a smile. "How are you today?"

The MP Commander gave a brief grin.

"Heh," he pulled at the red scarf around his neck, tugging it higher. "Very well, thank ye. What about ye'self?"

"Well enough, I suppose," I replied carefully. I hitched my satchel higher up on my waist and nodded.

"That's good t' hear. Another glad soul helps the sun shine just ha' little bit brighter durin' the day." his grin widened slightly. Despite my uneasy feelings to do with anything related to "SOLDIER", "Military" or "Turk" (kinda makes you wonder why I work at Shinra at all), I couldn't help but laugh at the MP's cheerfulness.

The MP Commander glanced over to his left, paused thoughtfully for a second, and then spoke up again.

"So, where be the gentleman who accompanies you ne'rly every day now?"

"Oh, you noticed?" I asked, a little surprised.

"Who, me? Aye, I noticed. I patrol this 'ere area ev'ry morn' and I see y' both walking. Why is tha' by th' way, if ye don't mind me askin'?"

"Oh! Well," I was momentarily thrown off by the question. "We, ah, ran into a bit of trouble a couple of week ago... and he just wanted to make sure I didn't have to walk alone in the mornings..." I laughed nervously.

"Ahh, I see," the MP Commander mused. "'N where be he now?"

"Oh, well, he had a late night last night, and so I let him sleep in." I answered, inwardly wondering why he was asking me all these questions. Quite frankly, they were bordering on personal.

"Eh, that's sweet of ye," the MP Commander chuckled. "But - if y' don't mind me sayin'..." he lowered his voice slightly. "I don't think i' was probably the best idea, on yer part."

I turned to look at him in alarm and opened my mouth quickly to talk, my heart leaping into my throat, but he raised a gloved hand to his lips.

"Shh," he said quietly, cutting me off. "I won't have ye look now, but I think ye'r bein' followed."

I shut my mouth quickly and felt my heart skip a beat.

"Over by that there buildin' - there be a man with dark hair an' stubble an' a suspicious aura about him, carryin' a crowbar. Tha' sound about right?" I hesitated, then nodded. The MP Commander gave me a reassuring smile and clapped my shoulder gently.

"But there's no need t' worry, little miss," he said. "If i' doesn't bother ye, I'll accompany y' to wherever ye be goin'."

"Um, thank you," I said gratefully.

"Ye'r most welcome," the MP Commander replied courteously, giving a little gentlemanly bow. "Where be yer destination, then?"

"Oh - I work at the Shinra building, as a Delivery Girl," I replied.

"Eh? A smart lookin' lass like you workin' as a Delivery Girl! Why, now, tha's almost a shame!" The MP Commander said, sounding horrified. "You should be puttin' your two gil into society 'n doin' somethin' great fer ye'self!"

I laughed. "I'm not sure that I have the kind of talents that people would require, sir."

"Well y' won't know unless ye try now, will ye? Y' have to start small, and keep on climbin', but when you get to the top o' that mount'n, ye'll find that i' was all worth it!"

Ah yes - I know all too well. My favourite of all the sayings that Father ever taught me.

_Everybody wants to get to the top of the mountain, but nobody wants to climb_.

"This'll be yer stop then, miss," the MP Commander said, breaking into my thoughts. I looked up at the Shinra Building and gave a little smile.

"It is indeed," I replied (a little redundantly). "Well," I turned back to the MP Commander and gave a bow. "Thank you very much, sir. I'm very much obliged."

"Heh," the MP Commander tweaked his nose with his thumb and grinned, beginning to walk away. "No need t' be so formal. Just mind ye be safe now, little miss."

* * *

"You seem to be exerting yourself a lot more frequently as of late, Miss Freeman," Mr. Tuesti said, sounding almost concerned as he took the package from me.

"This is the fourth time I've seen you this week and you seem to be increasingly tired with each passing. Are you all right?"

"Oh, h - ha ha," I laughed dismissively and shook my head, fighting the urge to grab at my arms from the pain burning my muscles. "I'm fine, sir, thank you. I'm just... having late nights and not getting enough sleep, and such. It's nothing major."

Mr. Tuesti looked at me strangely for a moment. I was almost ready to start fidgeting, or wildly scratching at my forearms, which would have been a resurrection of a very bad habit that I used to have in my younger teens when I was frustrated and/or very anxious.

"Well, I suppose if you say so," he finally said, in an almost cautious and unconvinced kind of way. "Just make sure that you take care of yourself."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," I bowed a few more times than would've been considered necessary as I backed out of the room, closed the door, whirled around, and promptly walked into someone.

"Oh! I'm so sorry - "

The person I'd crashed into grabbed me by the arms and I looked up, alarmed... into Kaoru's equally alarmed face.

"Ah! Kaoru! Sorry, I wasn't looking - "

"So it wasn't just me," Kaoru said abruptly.

"H - huh?"

"I wasn't just imagining it - you overworking yourself."

"I told you before, I'm not - "

"_Usotsuki!_ Liar!" Kaoru shouted. His sudden outburst scared me so badly that I froze up.

Kaoru shut his mouth quickly, and breathed out hard through his nose, closing his eyes and massaging the bridge of his nose.

"Look," he began. "Look, I know that... times are tough, right now. AVALANCHE is doing their thing and making a stand, the Military seem to have suddenly bought the streets for themselves, and the economy sucks and there's sure to be some kind of recession somewhere along the line. But... what the hell are _you_ doing, Claudia? What are hell are you _doing_?"

I chewed my lip uncertainly and refused to look him. What do I tell him? Do I tell him the truth?

Noticing my discomfort, Kaoru sighed and pulled me into a kind of awkward half-hug.

"Okay - I'm sorry," he said. "But really - can we just go back downstairs and talk about this? I'm really worried for your health, Claudia."

I allowed Kaoru to steer me back down to his office floor and to his desk. He sat me down in his chair and rolled over another one from nearby, sitting down on it. Resting his elbows on his knees and leaning forwards to rest his chin on his intertwined fingers, he looked at me steadily.

"What is this about, Clau'? One day you're all fine and dandy and happy and the next - you're a workaholic! You're uncontrollable! You run around all day working yourself to death, you dash into work early, don't go home until late and Odin knows you've been coming in on _Sundays_ too."

I shifted uncomfortably.

"... I want to be honest with you and tell you everything," I finally said, in a very low voice. Kaoru unfolded his hands and leant forwards.

"But..." I looked up at him nervously and bit my lip. "I feel as though I'd be hurting Francis if I did."

Kaoru gave a frustrated little sigh and scratched at his head hard. "That prideful bastard," he said under his breath. "So he's the cause of all this?"

"Kaoru - !"

"Okay, sorry, sorry, that was harsh. Is Francis the root of all this, is what I'm saying?"

I didn't like to say it, but... "... Yes."

"Judging from the amount of work you've been doing lately, I'd say that the problem would have to be something financial. Am I right?"

"... Yes."

"Is this related to why Francis has been walking you to work lately?"

Again. "Yes."

Kaoru sighed again and ran a hand through his messy hair, making it even messier.

"... I can't say I can help you, because - quite frankly - it doesn't seem like you want to be helped. I'm not berating you or anything," he added, interrupting my sign at a protest. "It's just that if you say that you don't need to be helped, then there's really nothing I can do about that - so the situation rests with just you and Francis, and thus I trust that you really _can_ handle it all by yourselves."

"Thank you."

"But to be honest," Kaoru help up a finger. "This has been going on for a very long time now, Claudia. And I am beginning to doubt your credibility as a person who knows when to stop and say 'no more'."

I felt myself cringe a little inside.

"However - '_Shinrai_'!" he patted his chest with his hand. "Trust. I'm going to really put my faith in you this time, Claudia, and give you," he counted on his hands and held up seven fingers. "Seven days; approximately a third of the total amount of time that you have been exerting yourself to this extent. Seven days to resolve all this, and no more. _Oké_?"

"And what happens say, if it hasn't been fixed by then?" I said, lifting my head to look at him anxiously. Kaoru looked dead serious.

"Then I will step in, and I _will_ sort it out, even if it means doing it by force. Yes?" Kaoru nodded, and, after a hesitation, I echoed the gesture and did the same, slowly.

"Understood," I said.

"Good girl," Kaoru smiled and patted me fondly on the head. "Now - "

Suddenly, there came a thunderous explosion and a blinding flash of light from the west window. I instinctively threw myself of the chair and onto the ground, burying my head in my arms. Life as a child growing up through 'that time' left its marks on you, and instead of the habits becoming, the habits were becoming of me. Around me I could hear people giving out exclamations of shock, rising from their chairs and running over to the windows to see what had happened. The next sounds that came near near me signalled that Kaoru had done the same.

"What is it? What's going on?"

"Mako Reactor 5 just went up!"

"It's AVALANCHE again. God, I just know it!"

The footsteps came back.

"Claudia, get up!" Kaoru said to me, bending down and pulling me up by my arm. Leading me over to a crowded window, he hoisted me up onto his right shoulder in one swift movement so that I could see over peoples' heads. A wave of terror quickly broke over me.

"Oh, no," I said, becoming even more wary and fearful of AVALANCHE. "It's just like Mako Reactor 1 all over again."

"Yeah, but it's worse this time," Kaoru said grimly. "The Mako Reactor 1 bombing was later at night. This time it's during the day, so - "

"There are going to be more people there," I finished, realising what he was saying.

"Yeah. Not to mention, it's my Sector too. Damn, not only will there be casualties but there'll be a lot of costs in damage. That money could be used to help the Emergency hospitals, or something." Kaoru lowered me back down onto the floor with one arm and ran his free hand through his hair, frowning to himself. "It's like a bad dream, huh?..."

While coming to comprehend Kaoru's earlier statement, I didn't really understand it. This was meant to be a feud against Shinra, not the workers! Was freedom really worth so many lives? Was war really so necessary?

And if you lost, didn't that mean that the blood repaid to the Planet had all been offered in vain?

* * *

Bearing witness to the bombing of the Sector 5 reactor had made me weak at the knees. It was as if the nightmares that I thought I'd left behind in 'that' childhood were coming around full circle again.

The whole idea of a terrorist bombing in Midgar was terrifying to me, as well as cruel.

Why would anyone do that? Why would anyone with a grudge against Shinra exact their revenge by killing innocent people? It was so cruel. I didn't understand it at all.

"Claudia."

I turned, lingering in the doorway. Kaoru looked at me soberly.

"Don't think about it too much. Okay?" He shifted his weight onto his other side and flashed me a uncertain but reassuring smile. "I can't promise anything. But I'm sure we'll pull through. _Oké_?"

He held up his right hand with his thumb and index fingertips touching as an 'o'.

I managed a brief twitching of the corner of my mouth. "Okay," I replied, and turned and walked back out the door.

* * *

"Scary, isn't it?" Emi chewed thoughtfully at the end of a pencil, staring moodily out the window. I dropped a stack of letters on her receptionist's desk and blew out a puff of air from my mouth, following her gaze to the place where Reactor 5 used to be.

"Yeah. It's so..." Unable to find a single word to convey my thoughts, I shut my mouth and leaned back on the edge of the desk, crossing my arms.

"Seems unnecessary, doesn't it?" Emi shook her head and hmm-ed to herself. "I know there are a lot of people against Shinra and all. Heck, I've even been told by someone to watch out for myself. But isn't this just going a little bit too far?"

"War is always unnecessary," I replied miserably. Emi studied me carefully.

"So it's like a recurring nightmare for you, is it?" she finally asked.

"... Something like that." I shrugged one shoulder begrudgingly. "... I guess I can sort of imagine what these people are going through, right now. Those who have lost their loved ones."

Emi nodded slowly, turning to look back out the window. "But, then again," she suddenly began. I turned to look at her. "Losing your loved ones doesn't always have to mean that you lost them to a battle."

She glanced at me and gave a wry smile. "Isn't that right?"

* * *

"These aren't the result of hunger pangs, are they?" I said out loud. My blue-eyed reflection suppressed a laugh.

"You don't feel hungry, do you?" it replied.

"Well... not particularly." I scratched the back of my head, puzzled, and tried to figure out why this strange apparition had returned again.

My reflection tipped its head to one side and said "You'll figure it out," before becoming my own brown-eyed image again.

I was barely given a moment to ponder over what I might have eaten that morning that had contained hallucinogenic ingredients, before a door near the other end of the corridor burst open loudly. A man came flying out and the momentum made him crash into the opposite wall, causing him to let out a short cry. He was dressed well in a dark suit and white shirt and he had a salt-and-pepper beard.

I gave a gasp, wondering if he was hurt, but then the man quickly regained his balance and took off running down the passageway, mumbling only half-coherently under his breath ("_Denzel, Chloe, Denzel, Chloe, Denzel - _") and dashing past me before shoving his way through the door to the stairs.

The steel door slammed against the wall before bouncing back and clanging shut again.

I just stood there, staring after him in surprise. Was there really something so urgent that would compel a man to drop everything and run like that?

* * *

Kaoru was right not to promise me anything, or to say that everything was going to be all right. Because it wasn't. Not by a long shot.

Apparently things had been running riot hours before it had even occurred, with AVALANCHE furiously battling the Shinra troops, or so we've all been told. No-one had ever seen it coming, and Leviathan forbid if anyone had been expecting it to happen.

* * *

It began with an explosion, much like the sounds that had shaken the peace of Midgar when AVALANCHE had thrown out their terrorist attacks. But... it was different, this time. It was louder, more powerful, and muffled, as if the sound was coming from underground.

It wasn't the sound of metal being ripped apart, with chemical flames welling out of the heart of the Reactors. It was the sound like... a concrete structure, like a building, being demolished, blown to pieces.

Hearing it made me dizzy and light-headed with panic, and memories as a seven year old girl in Wutai during an air raid flooded back and threatened to overwhelm me.

Like only a few hours ago when Mako Reactor 5 went up, people stood abruptly from their chairs, dropped what they were holding, stopped what they were doing and rushed open to the windows, gasping, exclaiming, giving shouts of disbelief. I found my feet and staggered over to join them, pushing my way to the front of the crowd.

A crumbling noise like a tower falling, breaking from the inside-out -

(Where is it!)

- a terrifying, creaking sound, as if something had been stretched to its zenith and was about to give way -

(Where is that _sound_ coming from!)

- a high, keening noise. No, not just a noise - someone screaming. No - not just one person... many. Tens, dozens, hundreds, thousands, _tons_ of people, screaming for their lives and where was that sound, _where was that sound_ -

My eyes finally searched out the source of the commotion and my heart froze cold. The screams were closer this time, all around me, the people in the room, those in the floors above and below me, throughout the building, all throughout Midgar -

I slammed my hands onto the window and started pounding on the glass with my fist but could do nothing but watch as the Sector Seven plate descended onto the slums below with a speed that was too slow - _much _too slow - as if torturing those who were watching - with a terrible clarity, and there was no denying what was happening and God help us, we were bearing witness to _genocide_ and it was horrible and I felt sick -

I was hammering on the window with my hands again and again and again and the cries around me were _nothing_ - there was a voice close - too close - in my ears, in my head, in my heart - screaming a single name over and over and over again -

"_**Francis! Francis!**_"

As I sank to my knees - beating on the glass over and over still - and then slumped into a dead faint, I could barely come to register that the voice had been my own.

* * *

(Review please)


	11. Resonance

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay, guys - again, I've been really busy. Curses and damnation to NCEA level 2! It's made me half dead! Also, like every other time I start a chapter, I got hit with the most terrible Writer's Block. I really shouldn't wait so long in-between chapters…

Just for clarification, Claudia and Francis live in Sector 8. Not Sector 7. Francis just works in Sector 7. Ha ha. -is shot-

Please leave a review when you're done! I spent a lot of time and hard work on this chapter. :)

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**Chapter 11: Resonance**

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White.

_White._

It's so...

_White._

Clean.

_Pristine._

Blank.

_White._

It's almost like the snow on the mountains during winter at home. Only this white... it's completely void of anything. It's so empty.

_Why do I feel so angry?_

It's suffocating and constricting. _Kirai desu_. I hate it.

_I hate it._

_I hate it.._

_**I hate it!**_

"Claudia?"

…..

I opened my eyes. Kaoru was leaning over me, a concerned look etched on his face. A wave of dizziness hit me as I realised I was lying down, and my hand flew to my head. A relieved smile broke out on Kaoru's face.

"You're finally awake. How do you feel?"

(…._Silence_.)

I didn't answer. I didn't know what to say. Maybe if I closed my eyes and went back to sleep, I could imagine that it had all been some kind of sick nightmare. Then I wouldn't have to face up to the horrible truth.

I looked up at the ceiling. Everything was still all white.

"Where…"

Kaoru guessed my question. "67th floor infirmary. You're not the only one though."

He shifted slightly and turned to look behind him. I looked past him to see several others – mostly women, but a few men as well – situated, both conscious and unconscious, on various beds placed around the room. One lady with long red curls was sitting up in her bed and giving terrible, heart-wrenching wails into the shoulder of her friend, as if the world was ending, crumbling and falling apart around her shoulders.

Likewise, her friend was crying silently, tears sliding down her face and seeping into the collar of her shirt. There was a look on her face. It was one I'd seen all too many times before, and one I'd once had myself. That pained, sad look was always accompanied by the slow, sinking feeling of your heart swelling and breaking in two. It was a look of loss and complete and utter helplessness.

I looked away. In my life I'd seen countless numbers of people – family, friends, and total strangers – suffer during the war. All of them – each and every single one of them – had worn that same look on their faces. You can call me selfish if you want. But I didn't want to have to see that look again now, not when I felt so utterly devastated inside. It would have been too much for me to bear.

Kaoru turned back to look at me and paused a moment before speaking. "You fainted, you know." he said. He sat down on a chair by the bedside and ran a hand through his hair, giving a grim half-smile. "I could kinda hear you screaming, in my head. So I ran up about seven floors and checked them all just to find you."

He paused and looked awkward. "…What a mess, huh?"

I hesitated and opened my mouth to speak.

"…Francis?"

"…." Kaoru shook his head. "Shinra's sent out rescue teams to pull out survivors from the Plate, but I haven't heard anything yet."

I shivered and pushed myself to sit up. "How long?"

"About three hours ago or so."

I looked around for a window. By the looks of it, it was well past dusk now."….I've been out that long?"

"Yeah." Kaoru gave a light chuckle. "Either you're a heavy sleeper, or you were really exhausted."

A silence fell over the two of us. I could still hear that one woman's wailing. Desperate to block out the sound, I clamped my hands over my ears and shut my eyes tight.

"Can we leave now?" I said, almost begging. "Please?"

I felt Kaoru's hand on my shoulder.

"Okay," I heard him say. The sound was muffled through my hands. I felt him take my arm tug at it gently. "Come on then, let's get a move on."

* * *

It was about two floors down when Kaoru realised he'd left his jacket behind.

"Oh, blast," he muttered under his breath. "Stay here, Claudia. I'll have to go get it."

Despite what he told me to do, I followed him anyway. I wish I hadn't. I don't think I'll ever be able to erase those images from my mind for as long as I live.

As soon as Kaoru had stepped through that door, we'd both felt that something was amiss. It was quiet – too quiet. Over a 10 minute lapse, could things really have become so silent?

As he walked ahead, I traipsed along slowly behind him, my arms wrapped around myself. I didn't remember it being so cold a few moments ago. Was there a deep-freeze cryogenic chamber in one of the labs that had been left open accidentally? I remember seeing something in Hojo's lab, that time I went to deliver something to him – the dome-like structure with the headless blue female figure inside. Do you think that fits my description?

Kaoru rounded the corner and then unexpectedly reappeared again as he stumbled backwards, looking as if he'd suddenly seen a ghost.

"Oh my God - "

Startled by Kaoru's abrupt backpedal and puzzled as to what it was he could have seen to make him look so ashen-faced so quickly, I picked up my pace and scurried towards him.

"What's wrong, Kaoru?" I asked. He whirled around and tried to push me back.

"Don't look, Claudia - !" he began.

The floor was stained dark crimson.

I stopped dead in my tracks and everything came to a _**stop**_.

* * *

I'm not used to the sight of blood. I will_never_ become used to the sight of blood.

Even as a person who was raised during the Wutai War, blood is not something that you simply _get used_ to seeing. It's a horrible and foul and wretched sight every single time, no more and no less than before.

Does one _usually_ become accustomed to the sight of dead bodies? Bloodied, mangled corpses piled on top of one another? The worst part is recognising some of the faces in that line they arrange on the roadside from the twisted heap they were first retrieved in. The father of your best friend, or the brother of a classmate, or the son of old Mrs. Fuwako who lives down by the paddy-fields.

It's not something anyone can just put completely behind them and then simply _get over_.

You just feel… numb. You've seen it so many times before. It shocks you and scares you every single time, and it's not that it doesn't affect you, but you just feel so _numbed_ by what you're seeing.

I walked ahead and studied the floor, slick with blood that wasn't yet dry. I've always hated the way that blood feels simultaneously sticky and slippery under your feet when you walk over it. So moving over to the wall side, I began to follow that disgusting, burgundy-coloured trail of blood down the corridor.

"What are you doing?" Kaoru asked. Breaking the silence.

The heavy stench of the blood made the air seem thick and muggy. I turned my head to look at Kaoru, nausea threatening to overwhelm me as I moved. "What if there're people who need help?"

Turning back to face forwards, I heard Kaoru hurry after me.

* * *

There wasn't anyone who needed help. There wasn't anyone left to offer it to.

They were all dead. Slaughtered. Strewn all over the floors of the 67th floor corridors, as if someone walking through had seen fit to just kill anyone who was in their way. 500 innocent people lying in pools of their own blood, surprise and shock etched permanently onto their faces.

We returned to the infirmary, and found it untouched. Kaoru retrieved his jacket, told the nurses present to isolate the area and call for assistance, and then we left.

While we were leaving I caught sight of a familiar face amongst the dead bodies. It was the young woman with the short brown hair, who had directed me to Hojo's lab that one time. I forced myself to look at her as we walked past. To ignore her then would have meant denying her existence.

* * *

"_Did you hear? The President's dead!_"

"_You're kidding me!_"

"_President Shinra is dead! No way!_"

"_Yeah! They say he was found in his office with a sword stuck in his back…_"

The news spread like wildfire, as news often does. It seemed that within only hours being discovered, the reports of the mass killings of Shinra was all over the media, causing more chaos to add on to the crisis of the Sector 7 Plate collapsing in. It was all over the television, the radio, even the newspapers that came the very next morning.

As I had returned home alone the previous night, there was a homeless man with a ghetto blaster, who sat in a dirty gutter at the side of the street. As the news of the death of President Shinra came blaring through the speakers, I turned in surprise, and met the old man's gaze. For a while he held it. Then a filthy yellow grin with blackened and missing teeth spread across his unshaven face and he leered at me.

"There's one more pig-bastard off the face of the Planet. Wasn't worth half the people that just copped it in Sector 7, but maybe it was worth losing my whole gorramn life to the War." He barked out a laugh, then turned his head, hawked, and spat in the gutter. I shuddered and quickly turned and walked away.

There were mixed emotions in response to all that had happened – Some remorse, but mostly elation, over President Shinra's death; and tears and joy and anger over the murder of three floors' worth of Shinra workers.

Joy? Joy. What joy was there to be found in the arbitrary slaughter of 1500 innocent people?

The answer was – Hatred. Some people hated the Shinra so much that they believed that every man or woman who worked for them must be as evil as they believed the company to be. They believed that they deserved to die.

And me?

…For a great majority of the first ten years of my life, the War dictated and made us very cautious about the way we lived our lives. The things we said, the things we did, where we went, the friends we had outside of the country. Wutai, who wanted to be an independent country, picked up her Swords and her _Bushido_ and challenged the Shinra – and She lost. Wutai was shamed. And what are we now? A tourist country, for people to come and visit and stare in awe at our customs and our traditions and our language and our way of life.

It's because of this that I almost don't have a childhood, not in the way that you may have had. My parents - my father, who always worked so dexterously to provide for his family; and my mother, who was so kind and loving, but who yet died when I was just ten – they struggled so hard to leave me with precious memories for me to grow up with. It's because of Shinra that my mother died before her time and my father has threads of grey in his black hair.

But my Faith tells me not to hold grudges or dwell in the past. Yes, Shinra took away the liberty that my family, my friends, my generation should have all grown up with. But by holding grudges, you tie yourself down, and by dwelling in the past you can't move forward to face the challenges ahead.

I haven't forgotten, and I haven't quite forgiven. But I'm willing to leave what happened in the past. I came to Midgar to find a job, and Shinra was a company that offered just that. It still makes me feel uneasy to work here every now and then, but I think to myself that this is just another way to show that I can get up and move on.

But despite what _I've_ been through – despite if you were a hater of Shinra or a supporter of them - The question on everybody's lips was:

If the current President of the Shinra Corporation is dead, then who's to be the next head honcho?

"Rufus Shinra, of course," Melissa gave a slight smile and drew her finger through the air as if to underline her point. "He's the only heir to the Shinra name and the Vice-President, after all."

"_Mochiron_. Who else?" I leaned my elbows on her desk, the images of yesterday - the agonising images of yesterday - still as fresh in my mind as they were when I first bore witness to them.

"But it's not just the Board and the Administration," Melissa turned back to her computer and started typing. "We just lost a big number of workers in that massacre on Hojo's block and beyond, too. Everything's such a huge god-damn mess."

"Did they find out who did it yet?"

"No, not yet. But…" she stopped and turned to look at me again, holding up a finger. "They rumoured it was a sword-wielder, right?"

I shrugged a shoulder. "…Something like that."

That part confused me the most. Of all weapons to use, why a sword? And why would you leave it in the victim once you're… done? Wouldn't one usually take the weapon before scarpering?

"Well, this is just a rumour, but," Melissa looked troubled. "They said it was Sephiroth. You know, that famous SOLDIER from five years ago?"

I pursed my lips. I was only eleven or twelve five years ago, but I knew who Sephiroth was all too well.

"But he disappeared, right?" I said. "Five years ago. He suddenly disappeared off into thin air. No-one knows where he went."

"Well, no-one knows for sure what happened to him. For all we know, he could actually be dead. But that's just a rumour, too."

"Rumours! Rumours!" I let out an aggravated little scream. "Everything's all rumours right now! It's so frustrating! It was rumoured the President 'said this'. It was rumoured the President 'did that'. It was rumoured the economy was going into a recession. It was rumoured that _Shinra_, in fact, and _not _AVALANCHE, caused the Plate to drop, and it's rumoured that only 290 000 out of a possible 750 000 people escaped certain death from either being crushed or falling 50 metres down to the Slums. What the hell is going on! Why can't we get any definite answers every once and a while? Is it too much to ask for nowadays?"

I gave a heavy, angry sigh and slumped down to the floor, leaning back against Melissa's desk and twisting my fingers into my hair. What use was it getting angry? I wanted to cry. I felt so damn helpless.

After a while, Melissa came out and sat down next to me. It was a silent, but comforting gesture.

Silence. So much silence.

"…I almost didn't come to work today," I finally mumbled. Melissa turned her head.

"Hm?"

"Because of…the _Plate_," I tripped and stumbled over that one word. "And Francis. I felt staying home or something."

"Why didn't you then? You would have had a valid reason." Melissa said.

I shook my head. "I saw something – someone this morning, and I changed my mind."

"Who'd you see?"

"A man," I answered.

To be precise, one of the men from the gang that was blackmailing Francis.

"He was standing outside our apartment."

He was waiting right under the window, in fact.

"He was all roughed-up looking, like he'd been in a bad fight."

Or maybe he escaped –

"He escaped from the Plate?" Melissa suggested. I frowned.

"I thought that too. But, wherever he came from…"

(_He was leaning on a crutch and there was a bandage wound around his head and right eye_.)

"He kinda… looked up at me."

In the early morning light, it had been an almost eerie movement.

"And he stared at me, and just…"

I raised a hand and gestured, gathering my hand into a tight fist and jabbing my thumb downwards in exactly the same way that he had.

"Was he threatening you?" Melissa asked in surprise. I shrugged my shoulders.

"I don't know. But it made me change my mind, because if a guy like him, who's obviously roughed it… If a man like him can carry on, then so can I."

So _must_ I.

"Even though you might have just lost a friend?" Melissa asked cautiously, tentatively.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. She didn't know. She didn't have a reason to know.

"There's nothing I can do, right now," I said. "All I can do is pray."

Melissa gave a soft smile.

"Keep your chin up, Tiger," she said. She stood up, reached over her desk, and pulled out a delivery, passing it to me. "The world keeps on turning and we have to turn with it. Now, stand and deliver."

I hauled myself to my feet and snapped my heels together, giving a mock salute.

"Yes, Ma'am," I said, taking the package and inspecting it before tucking it into my satchel.

* * *

It was just one thing after another. As it happened, there was a nasty surprise waiting for me as I exited the Shinra building that day.

"Kid," someone snapped at me as I walked down the front steps. I started and whirled around, looking for the source of the voice.

A figure hobbled clumsily out from behind a flickering streetlamp.

It was the man from the gang, the same one as this morning, with the crutch and the bandage wound around his head and right eye. He was leaning awkwardly and heavily on his crutch, in a manner that suggested he'd never been acquainted to one before now, and there was an uncomfortable and agitated grimace on his face. Now that I was seeing him up close, I noticed that he looked dishevelled and haggard and - above all - tired. I found myself relaxing shoulders I hadn't realised were tensed.

"Can I help you?" I said, trying to keep my voice level. He scowled at me.

"Y' got a sense of humour," he muttered, hobbling closer. My brow creased into a slight, anxious frown and I shifted my weight to my hip.

"If you're here about the money," I began. "Then we - " I stopped myself mid-sentence and bit my lip. "… I don't have it all yet."

Just two days ago, the total amount of gil that Francis and I had gained was 850 000 out of the 985 000 total amount that we needed. That left a 135 000 gil remainder. If I could earn 250 000 in three weeks, then in maybe in two weeks or so I could…

Deeply immersed in my mental arithmetic, I didn't notice how hard the man from the gang was staring at me.

"…Is there something you need to say?" I asked at last, tentatively. He started, then his scowl got a little darker.

"Look, _chiquerita_,_"_ he finally ground out. "I need that money. _We _need that money. We worked our asses off for three years to get all that gil so we could move out of those bloody Slums and up onto the Plate. And then what'd that bastard Milton's father do? He played traitor and stole it all for himself! Do y' see? That gil is ours by right!"

I bit my lip. "…Then if it was his father who stole the money then why are you taking it all out on Francis?"

"I ain't hassilin' Milton right now. I'm hasslin' you. But when someone cops it down there, his debts are passed on to his next of kin. That's how it works in the Slums."

I shook my head a little to myself. I didn't agree with that philosophy, but who was I to argue with the ways of Midgar? After all, I'm just a little Wutai girl. If I argued and disagreed with everything here, then it'd be better for me if I just packed up and went home.

My head snapped up suddenly as I realised the double-meaning of the words he'd just spoken. I stared at him with wide eyes.

"Don't you say it," I said, barely able to keep the quiver out of my voice. "Don't you dare say it."

The man from the gang snarled and pointed in the direction of Sector Seven, teetering dangerously on his crutch as he did so. "The Plate fell in two, three days ago and less than half – less than a _third _of the people who lived there're expected to survive. Y' really think Milton has that much better of a chance of survival than the others under the Acrop?"

"Until they find and show me his dead body I won't believe it." I said, my hands balling into fists.

The man swore.

"You naïve little _b _- "

"Look, _what do you want?_" I finally burst out. The man shut his mouth, closed his eyes, and breathed out hard through his nose, gripping his crutch tighter so that I could hear the wood creak.

After a silence, in which we both calmed ourselves down - He spoke first.

"Look," he began again. "I need that gil now, more than ever. My mates – my _brother_ - they're all still in the hospital. And I ain't got the money to pay for that. I'll give you…" he trailed off mid-sentence. "A week," he said at last, jabbing a finger at me.

I blanched. A week? That wasn't enough! I needed more than just a week, maybe even two weeks!

"Not two weeks?" I pleaded weakly.

"Y'tell that to the tax collectors and the medical bills." he growled.

I fidgeted with my sleeve.

"And what if I haven't got it by then?" I eventually forced myself to ask. As if I really wanted to know the answer to something like that.

"Then it comes out of yer own pocket, or we take it from the flesh."

The flesh, huh? I'm not sure I like the sound of that.

But… how ironic. One week. Exactly the same amount of time that Kaoru had given me to sort out this whole mess. Seems fitting, I guess.

But how fitting it might've been wasn't really relevant – Right then, I had to make a decision on what to do. Should I pull some more overtime and work harder to get the money earned faster? It would be hard now I was the only one making any money, but…

"One week," the man from the gang said, startling me out of my thoughts. I looked up and saw the severe look on his unshaven face. "Outside here. All the money. And that ain't a request."

He gave me a look that clearly said 'This conversation is over'. But I just stayed there in that same spot as I watched him begin to turn and shuffle away, my mind completely blank.

A little while later, the man stumbled and fell over, his crutch clattering to the ground. I subconsciously stepped forwards, as if about to go help him, but I just stood there instead and watched.

As I witnessed him drag his crutch closer to himself then struggle to get to his feet, I realised something.

In Midgar, in life – it doesn't matter who you are, or what your status is.

Everyone's a victim. No-one is exempt.

* * *

The next morning, while I was in the lobby picking up deliveries, Kaoru burst in through the door from the stairwell with his cellphone in hand.

When he told me that Francis had been found alive, albeit seriously wounded, I didn't believe him.

When I took the cellphone from Kaoru's hands and heard the words from the Search-and-Rescue worker on the other, I froze on the spot and the phone slipped out of my hands and fell to the floor.

And when Kaoru asked me if I was alright, I just laughed.

I laughed and laughed and laughed – not out of relief or joy, but out of sheer hysteria – and I laughed and laughed and laughed until I cried.

* * *

Later that evening, Kaoru took me to see Francis at the hospital.

* * *

(_Please review!_)


	12. Yûdachi

**A/N: **Hey, guess what? I put Claudia through the Mary-Sue Litmus test and she came out with a 6, which means she isn't even close. Yay!

I imagine the value of gil to be similar to Yuan or Yen, which is everything seems so overly expensive. Considering potions are G50, and how much you get from random encounters….

This chapter here concludes the aftermath of the Sector 7 Plate collapse, and later on I hope to write a bit on Claudia's childhood during the war in Wutai, as I've been wanting to for a while. Then I'll return to the main FF7 storyline.

Hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 12 – Yûdachi (Evening Rainstorm)**

**

* * *

**

The first most important thing was that _Francis was alive_.

Yes, his leg was broken in two places and he had many cuts and bruises from the rubble and debris, and the sheer amount of bandages that he was wrapped in almost made him look ridiculous… but he was _alive_.

He looked terrible and tired, and I could tell from the look on his face how much he hated the condition that he was in - but at least he could still say that he was here and able to feel things such as pain and exhaustion again. How many other people who lived in Sector 7 would ever be able to say the same?

The nurse said that he'd suffered minor trauma to his head, and that right now he was only sleeping (_so long as it isn't a coma, anything but a coma_), but after discharge and weeks of therapy and rehabilitation he'd "soon be right".

* * *

While Francis was still sleeping, Kaoru and I stayed in silence in his Hospital room. I sat on a chair by his bedside, anxiously waiting for him to wake up, while Kaoru peered gloomily out the window through the slats in the half-shut venetian blinds.  
I put my hand on his, as if to make sure that he really was alive – to keep on feeling the warmth of human life and to feel more confident on the fact that he was going to be okay.

Over the years, especially during the War, I'd spent many a time praying for others' survival – but the last time I had sat like this by a person's bedside was about seven years ago. Only back then… the person whose hand I had been holding onto hadn't survived.  
Murmuring under my breath, I begged, _begged_ the Gods to let Francis be alright.

And what seemed like an eternity later, Francis shifted slightly in his bed.

Slowly, his single unbandaged eye opened, and he stared blearily up at the ceiling.

"…Claudia, your hand is trembling." he said, and Kaoru and I snapped back to reality and gave audible sighs of relief. I felt as if a great weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

"How do you feel?" Kaoru asked, striding over to the bed. Francis rolled his head slightly from side to side and frowned a little.

"Like crap," he said groggily.

I gave a smile. "Just 'crap'?" I said. Francis ventured at a light chuckle.

"Nah, ye'r right," he returned. "More like… someone slogged me over the head with a brick… then kicked me or something while I 's out."

"Do… do you remember what happened?" I decided to put forth the question after some mental debate. During the War, it wasn't uncommon for someone to forget something traumatic right after it had happened, and especially if they had been rendered unconscious while or after it had taking place. However, their individual reactions were something else entirely. I'd seen people respond with hysterics, catatonia, denial…  
Francis was silent for a very long time, staring blankly into space. For a moment, I wondered if my question had gone unheard.

"Yeah," he answered eventually. "It wasn't just a bad dream, was it? The Plate… it really did collapse, didn't it?"

"Yes," I said quietly, giving Francis' hand a light squeeze. He nodded slowly.

"How long has it been since?" he asked, his voice bordering on hoarse. Kaoru looked glum.

"Three days," he replied. Francis nodded again.

"How many people survived?" came the next question. Francis didn't really want to know the answer, I could tell.

"They say around 230 thousand." I replied.

"Out of?"

"750 thousand."

Again, Francis nodded. "Not even a third." He said, numbly, as if waiting for the information to fully sink in.

"…Yes."

I felt so sad when I saw how shattered Francis was. He was born in the Slums, and his whole livelihood was there too –how would it feel to suddenly lose everything you'd ever cherished in a matter of days? I took his hand in both of mine and touched my head to the bed, as if in prayer.

"Oh, god," Francis suddenly blurted out. "Oh, god. Oh my god." My head snapped back up and my breath caught in my chest. Kaoru looked just as stunned as I did. Francis was shaking his head and cursing and repeating "Oh, god," endlessly, his eyes shut tight and tears running down his face. His hand curled into a fist under my hands.

"Oh my god," he choked. "Oh my god. What about the kids? What happened to them? Did they - Oh god…"

(_Children, under the Plate at the time? No, not just under – on it too. Scores and scores of children, whole generations gone, snuffed out in a moment. How many dozens of family bloodlines are there that have been finished because of this one act? How cruel. How so very cruel._)

Seeing a grown man cry is one of the most heartbreaking and horrible things I have ever seen in my life. I've only seen it once before, and I hope to never see it again.

* * *

I decided not to tell Francis about my encounter with the gang member and how he expected his money back. After what he'd just been through, telling him something like that would be the straw to break the camel's back. But… Francis did mention something interesting. He said that about a half hour before the Plate fell in, the gang members – all of them - confronted him and threatened him with almost the same thing as what I'd been told two days later.

"_One month,_" they had said. "_One month, and then we take it from the flesh._"

Three days ago, the deadline had been about a month. And then the Plate collapsed and changed everything. It seems that even those who were on the train up to the Acropolis from the Slums didn't go unharmed – The gang member that confronted me; him, his brother and his two other partners had been caught as the train reached the Platform at the top of Sector Seven. Only one of them made it out safely enough to get medical help for himself. The others were found and hospitalised not long after.

…Everyone's a victim in Midgar, right?

* * *

After the Plate falling, everything just seemed to turn grey. The usual lively air surrounding the city seemed to diminish and everybody seemed to be on edge. The numbers of SOLDIERs and Shinra troopers patrolling the streets increased, and it was almost like a vice had closed over Midgar. A vice that was squeezing Midgar tighter and tighter until the city collapsed from all the pressure.

So much pressure.

So much stress.

It was almost like reliving the years during the War – only this time, I wasn't in Wutai. I was in Midgar, the City of Iron and Steel and Mako - a place still largely unfamiliar to me. A location where I know few people, have no outstanding status, and - god forbid – I'm probably working myself to death.  
I missed the simple, cheerful parts of my childhood in Wutai. I found myself second-guessing my decision in coming here, and wondered if it would have been better if I'd stayed in my home country.

To add to the overall thoroughly depressing mood of the day, it was also raining. The rain in Midgar isn't anything like the rain at home. Due to the factories and the Mako plants surrounding the perimeter of the city, it's polluted and unclean and almost acidic.  
It made me glad that I'm not standing outside in it. No, I'm not good enough to be standing outside in the cold and the rain on an evening like this, rushing around with my head down like everybody else. Instead, I'm bundled up in a duvet at home by myself, frozen and shivering - huddled by the malfunctioning oil heater in the front room with my knees drawn up to my chest and binding wads of gil together.

Seventy-seven, seventy-eight, seventy-nine… eighty-two, eighty-three… eighty-five.

I counted eighty-five piles, as there should be so far. G10 000 per every pile, tied together with twine found in the kitchen cupboard. I pulled the duvet closer around myself and laughed a little nervously, my breath coming out in little clouds. Gangs, debts and monetary issues? If my mother was still here knew what I was doing right now, what would she say? Mind you, if I'd never met Francis I wouldn't have anything to do with any of this, but I guess that's life.

A 135 000 gil remainder… that meant about 13.5 bundles left to be tied, if I earned that money at all. I chewed on my lip. According to my calculations, if I could earn about 250 000 gil in about three weeks, then that meant the remainder could be earned in about one-and-a-half weeks (1.65 weeks, to be exact)… but since you didn't get paid every half week, it'd mean about two weeks. Too bad I only had half of that.

But if I had to work twice as hard to get just 250 000 gil in three weeks, I'd have to work twice, no, almost _three times_ as hard as that to get all the money earned in time! That meant working about… oh, I dunno, _six times_ harder than usual?  
_That's impossible_, I thought to myself exasperatedly, throwing wad number eighty-five onto the floor. _There's no way I can work that fast! I'd need to clone myself or something to get everything done on time!_

I sighed and pulled a canvas bag off the couch from where I'd thrown it earlier, proceeding to take the piles of money and tossing them inside.

This was depressing. No, this was beyond depressing – this was heartbreaking. _Tough stuff_, I thought gloomily.

Still, like my father used to say to me – "When the going gets tough, the tough get going". During the War, times were definitely tough – and everyone had to keep on going. It was either that, or get left behind.

The phone rang.

I looked up from where I was knelt on the floor, moodily throwing the bundled gil into the bag, and just stared for a while at the ringing white contraption, wondering who might call at 9 o'clock on a night like this.  
Pushing the piles of money out of my way, I stood up and tried to stamp out the numb feeling crawling up my legs before making my way over to the kitchen counter.

-_click_-

"Hello?"

"_Yosh, _Kazue-_tan_," my father returned to me, friendly and amiable on the other end of the line.

* * *

'Speak of the Devil and he will appear', right?

Not to say that my father's the Devil, that is.

* * *

"_How have you been? I heard one of the Plates collapsed in Midgar. _Daijoubu desu ka_? Are you alright? How's that friend of yours that you live with? It sounds like things are rough over there. Have you been eating well? Are you working hard? Not too hard though. You don't want to end up all old and worn like your old man here_!"

The onslaught of questions was so comforting it was all I could do to hold my tears back. When was the last time I'd properly heard from home, from my father, like this? I sent letters back often, to keep him updated on things, but I never really much time to do anything else. Although more recently, I hadn't had a chance too – things were just too chaotic.

When I finally was able to get in a word the only thing I could think of to do was laugh. It was in complete and utter relief. I was so happy to hear my father's voice again – that calming, mellifluous tenor sound – that I couldn't think of anything to say.

"_Why are you laughing?_" my father's voice broke in again. "_Did I say something funny?__ Kazue-_tan_, I hope you're listening to me and not watching the television!_"

"_Iya_, Papa. _Terebi wa mimasen_. I'm not watching television." I eventually replied. It felt so good to be speaking so fluently in my mother tongue again.

"_Then why are you laughing for?_"

"_Betsuni_. Nothing. I'm just so happy to hear from you." I gave a light giggle.

"Ore mo. _Me too_," my father replied, and I could hear the smile behind the words. "_I'm sorry that I can't talk for very long, since international calls to and from Wutai cost so much nowadays. G40 a minute, Kazue! Would you believe it?_ Kangaerarenai koto da! _It's unthinkable!_"

"_Joudan deshou!_ No kidding!"

"_Haha! Oh, Kazue, you have no idea how much your old man misses you_."

I gave a wobbly smile that I knew he couldn't see. "I miss you too, Papa. _Gobusata shite orimasu_. I'm sorry I haven't written for a long time, but it's been so hectic here. You wouldn't believe it!"

"_Ahh_, daijoubu. _It's okay. I'll be looking forward for your next letter though! Anyway, I'm calling you tell you something, because I don't know how long it'll take to send a letter with the state of things in Midgar at the moment. Didn't you say it was easier to send things out than to receive them?_"

"_Ee,_ yes, but only a little. They have to check the contents of the letters now, with all the terrorist bombings. Sometimes at work I'll get packages to deliver at work and they look like they've already been opened."

"Mochiron, _of course. What about travellers? Surely their bags would be searched?_"

"_Sou desu_, that's right. Why do you ask?"

"_Oh_, bestuni, _no reason. But anyway, it sounds scary. Are you sure you're alright over there?_"

"I'm sure, Papa." I answered.

"_Well, then okay… But anyway, I was just calling to tell you that I'm sending something to you. I don't know how long it will take…. But I just wanted to let you know so you'll be expecting it. She's been lonely just sitting here at home, and it makes me lonely too just looking at her!_" my father chuckled.

"Lonely? 'She'? …. Papa, you're not sending me the goldfish are you?"

"_What, old Sakana? Of course not!_"

"Oh, phew! You had me worried for a moment there!" I laughed, and my father laughed with me. I'd forgotten how much I missed the sound of that laugh.

"_I'm afraid I can't tell you what it is, because that would spoil the surprise. But I hope you do enjoy it when it arrives to you!_"

"Are you sure you can't tell me, Papa?" I teased.

"_I'll leave it for you to find out for yourself, I think. Oh, blast. _Mou jikan yo. _Time is up. Sorry I couldn't have talked to you for longer, Kazue-_tan." My father cursed softly under his breath, and I felt sad at the self-disappointment I heard in his voice.

"_Daijoubu_, Papa, it's okay. I'm sorry to be keeping you on the phone so long that it'll be an expensive call. How is everybody doing over there?"

"Kazoku ichido genki ni shite orimasu_, everybody is doing well!_"

"Ahh, fantastic." I smiled at the good fortune of those back home. "_Minna-san ni douzo yoroshiku_, give my regards to everyone."

"_I will, Kazue-_tan. _Now_, okarada o taisetsu ni, _please take care of yourself!_"

"I will, Papa. Take care of yourself too!"

"Ohenji omachi shite orimasu! _I look forward to hearing from you!_"

"Yes, Papa. _Mata ne!_"

"Ja ne, _my darling daughter!_"

-_click_-

…..And so ended a five-minute long (and expensive!) international call from my father, carried out entirely in the Wutai language. Expensive as it was bound to be though, the joy that I got from those brief five minutes was enough to keep me satisfied for the rest of the night, and I returned to my task and continued to put the wads of gil away in the canvas bag with a smile on my face and joy in my heavy heart.

I almost forgot about the item Papa said that he would send to me – just having talked to him for the first time in months was enough.

* * *

It was too bad that that happiness didn't last.

Four days later, I was huddled over a washbasin in one of the restrooms in the Shinra building, my arms bracing either side of the sink and my face dripping wet from tears and tapwater.  
The stress of working so hard and the added pressure from everything that had happened in Midgar and to Francis had pushed me into a nervous breakdown, and I had collapsed in the stairwell on my way up to the eighteenth floor.

I was a miserable wreck, and my coughing and sniffling and shaking shoulders only proved that point further. I just felt so _angry_. All of this – what was it for? All this working and money and anxiety, what was it for? For a moment, I blamed Francis. And then I remembered that I had been the one who had decided to help Francis, because I knew that he wouldn't have been able to do it by himself. And now that he was currently incapacitated, _I_ had to do it all by _my_self, and I knew now that I'd _never_ be able to pull it off in time.

And then what? After I paid back the debt, what next? How would _we_ pay for _our_ hospital bills?

"Chin up, soldier!" a voice reprimanded me. I looked up into the mirror and gave a miserable, sullen glower at my blue-eyed reflection.

"Don't call me that," I replied, my voice hoarse from crying. "You of all people should know I don't like it."

"Ah, right. Bad war memories and all." My reflection bent forward and studied me closely. "So you figured it out then?"

I sniffed in a haughty kind of way. I really wasn't in the mood for games.

"Yes," I answered begrudgingly. "You're a doppelgänger."

The girl in the mirror grinned. "That's right," it replied. "I am your doppelgänger, after a fashion."

"'After a fashion'?" I asked testily. I really, _really_ wasn't in the mood for games. "Explain, before I break this mirror in a fit of childish pique."

"Well, I'll make it short then. When did I last turn up?"

"A few days ago," I snapped. "Before the –"

And then - bam! It came to me.

I shut my mouth and slowly turned off the tap.

"…Before the Plate fell in."

"Right. And before that?"

I thought back, hard, to a rainy day two fortnights ago.

"Before Francis came home all black and blue."

"And that was the precursor to…?" my doppelgänger prompted.

I sniffed. "This whole money… problem… thing."

"Right. And then even before that?"

I glared back up at my doppelgänger. "You didn't exist before that." I barked. It wagged its finger.

"Wrong!" it said, pointing at me. "I've appeared to you three times more, although I won't blame you for not remembering the first. The first time was when the war began, when you and I weren't even two. The last time was just a few weeks before the war ended. And that second time was…"

"…Before Mother died." I finished, suddenly remembering – a fragment of something, barely enough to merit as a memory - of a blue-eyed version of myself, staring back at me from a bucket of water I'd just drawn from a well. Water for my mother to drink as she lay sick and dying from illness during the war.

I thought over this for a while. My doppelgänger waited patiently for me to say something.

"Just so we're clear," I began.

"Yes?"

"You don't cause these accidents, do you?"

The doppelgänger almost laughed. "No, of course not. I'm only a doppelgänger after all. Well, a lesser sort of one anyway."

"A… lesser sort?"

"Let me enlighten you. Where is it exactly that I crop up?"

"In… mirrors." I frowned. "Or anything with a reflective surface, I guess."

"Precisely. I can't take physical form. This is what I mean by 'lesser sort', see?" my blue-eyed reflection spread its arms out wide. "In the way the world is now, since the time of the Ancients many thousands of years ago, the way that faiths and religions have changed over the years and how beliefs have dwindled away - not many Doppelgängers are able to manifest properly nowadays. It's a wonder we even exist at all anymore. Do you understand now?

"Anyway – Doppelgängers don't have enough status or influence to cause the accidents. The most we can do now is turn up and warn people. We don't cause the trouble," it put a hand to its chest. "And we can't stop it. Neither can you."

"So then, what does it mean, with you being here?" I asked, not _really_ wanting to know the answer.

It shrugged. "I don't know."

"What? What do you mean, 'you don't know'?" I said incredulously.

"Hey, I don't make the problems, remember? I turn up and give you notice."

"Well thanks. That sure inspires confidence."

"Hey, at least I'm here at all, okay? So, you know, just… be prepared for the worst, alright?" the doppelgänger nodded stoutly. "I'll be going now, but you take care, I guess. Remember, the end of you means the end of me." it made to turn away and gave me a short wave.

"Wait!" I called, raising my hand. Pfft. What a situation – raising a hand to a mirror double? How absurd.

My doppelgänger turned back around with a raised eyebrow and pursed mouth.

I hesitated for a while before posing the question: "Do you have a name?"

It smiled. "Yes. It's Morita Kazue, or Claudia J. Freeman if you prefer that."

"But… but that's my name."

"Isn't it just?" my doppelgänger answered brightly.

I shook my head. "I meant a name of your own."

It laughed and raised a finger to tap at the mirror surface. "I'm not a separate being, remember? I'm your doppelgänger, an essence manifest. I basically _am_ you. And by the way," it placed its arms akimbo. "Remember that while you and I can't stop all these bad things from happening – we can change the outcome of them."

In the time that I was left to process this fact, I'd blinked and my reflection had returned to normal.

* * *

"Claudia," Kaoru called me. I stopped on my way past the 47th floor. He looked at me with a combination of concern and severity from the open doorway and seemed to ponder over what exactly to say. Finally, he opened his mouth.

"You have two days left to sort this all out. Can you do it?"

For a while, I thought of doing the right thing and saying 'no'. I was killing myself working here! And then I remembered what my doppelgänger had said – about not being able to stop bad things from happening, but being able to change the outcome. And then I thought of something.  
Slowly, I nodded. "I think I can," I said, quietly. Then I nodded again, more strongly this time, and raised my head to look at Kaoru. "Yes. I think I can." I repeated, resolutely.

Kaoru's brow furrowed, as if he wasn't too pleased (I couldn't blame him, this had gone on long enough) but he just tipped his head forward in a half-nod and said: "Well, if you're sure."

I _wasn't_ sure, not one bit – but what else could I do?

* * *

I'm sure everyone's had this feeling before, right? The feeling when your heart seems to be jumping all over your chest and sometimes it's jammed halfway up your throat – your head feels like it's suddenly gotten heavier and you can't seem to concentrate – and when you try to think of the matter at hand your eyes can't seem to focus on _anything_.  
Well, that's how I felt at the end of my seven days. Seven days to rustle up enough money as I could to pay off a Slum debt that I chose to be a part of. I'm still not sure whether it was a foolish decision or not. Brash and abrupt, certainly not wise. _Un_wise more like.

But there I was, standing in front of the Shinra building with cold hands and cold feet (in nearly both senses of the term), the canvas bag full of gil held safely under my arm.

Since Mr. Gang Member hadn't specified a time for our meeting, I'd been waiting outside in the cold weather since my hours had ended. I'd decided to finish work on the dot that day – I wasn't going to risk pulling overtime and then end up running late.  
Three hours later, at approximately 8PM, a figure ambled out of the shadows and into the lit path up to the Shinra building. It was the man from the gang, as expected, his wooden crutch still tucked firmly by his side. My fingertips began to tingle, and not from the cold, as he ambled towards me in the awkward way that he had last week. His hair looked even more dishevelled than it had before, and he looked unshaven and more worn than ever.

He clumsily made his way up the stairs and stopped six or seven feet shy of me, as if he was too grumpy with me to come any closer. I shifted my weight to one hip uncertainly and tried (and failed) to muster up a smile.

"Good evening, sir," I said politely. He just gave a grunt in reply. Very manly.

_Well_, I thought, _at least I can say that I _tried_ to start a decent conversation_. I sighed. Since an exchange of 'good evening's and 'how do you do's didn't seem in order, I figured I might as well get straight to business. I slipped the canvas bag off my arm and held it out to him.

"Here's your money," I said. I wish my voice hadn't cracked while I was saying it. The gang member glanced at me almost suspiciously (maybe he was thinking '_that was too easy_') before dragging himself forward a few feet and taking the bag from me in a way that wasn't _quite_ snatching.

He struggled to open the bag with one hand whist still trying to keep himself upright on his crutch. After a cursory examination, he gave another grunt and asked: "Is it the whole amount?"

I took a deep breath.

"…No." I replied, truthfully.

His head snapped back up to look at me and I saw the incredulous look on his face.

"'No'? Whadday' mean, '_no_'?"

"No…. it's not the full amount." I tipped my head forward.

Of course I hadn't been able to raise enough money in time – in the end, I'd only managed to earn another 67 500 gil – half of the remainder. G917 500 out of a total of G985 000 and then it all stopped. I wonder what'd happen next?

The man from the gang tossed the bag of gil onto the ground in disgust.

"I said to have all the money by today. And I meant – _all_ the money. How am I supposed to support four people forced out of house and home when I can only just pay for all the hospital bills?" he was shouting by the end of the sentence, and I winced openly.

"I know, I'm sorry!" I said hastily, almost pleading. "I just didn't have enough time to get everything together! But here," I quickly pulled my 'ace' out of my pocket and held it out to him.

The gang member seemed to freeze in his very train of thought, and for a while he just stared with wide and disbelief eyes at the item in my hand.

"That's a materia," he said slowly. "A cure materia. Where the hell'd you get something like that?"

I swallowed. Yes, it was a cure materia, and cure materia was very, _very_ valuable. But… I hadn't bought this one. This one had been given to me, by a stranger, who – now that I think of it – probably had a LOT of money if he was just to be giving away cure materia like that.

"I don't have enough money to be able to pay back all of this dept," I told him. "But if you take this materia, then you could use it to cure your…. your brother, and your friends… a-and then afterwards you can _sell_ it if you need to for the rest of the money…"

"The use of materia by anyone else other than doctors or nurses in a hospital is _forbidden_," he growled harshly.

"I – I _know_ that, but – "

_Damn! I forgot all about that!_

"And have you even thought about what'd happen if I tried to sell materia? Me, a slum rat, selling materia? They'd think it was Black Market!" he was almost screaming now, and spittle flecked his chin.

"But I don't have a way to pay you otherwise!" I was begging at this point. I didn't have anything else to offer!

"_The hell you do!_"

And then I heard it, godsend: "There is a way."

I whirled around, startled. Equally surprised, the gang member swayed on his crutch and almost toppled over as he turned jerkily towards the sound of the voice.

There at the foot of the stairs to the Shinra Building entrance, Francis sat half-slumped over in a wheelchair, smiling quietly. His cast and bandages were all still on, and he looked as beaten and shabby as the last time I'd visited him six days ago. He was bundled up haphazardly in faded jeans and a checked shirt and an old rainjacket, and there was a roughly woven, brown sack-cloth bag lying in his lap.  
Behind him, Kaoru stood, his expression sombre, his hands resting lightly on the handlebars of the wheelchair. He looked at me and the surprised expression on my face, and the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight, grim smile.

"Your week is up." he said.

"…Milton," the gang member said, through clenched teeth. He breathed out hard through his nose. "You got out."

Francis gave a short nod in return. "I heard your lot got lucky too," he replied. "On the train up, and you all managed to survive." He picked up the brown sack-cloth bag in his lap, and held it out, offering it out to the gang member.

"Here's the rest of your money. It's all I managed to get before the Plate caved in." Francis shook the bag briefly, still holding his arm out

The man from the gang was silent for a moment, and he kept on opening his mouth and then closing it again like he was trying to figure out what to say and how to say it. In the end, he just hobbled towards the stairs in order to get the bag that was being offered to him. Kaoru stepped out from behind the wheelchair and took the bag from Francis, taking quick steps to the stairs and giving the gang member the bag of money before returning to Francis' side.

"…How much?" the gang member asked brusquely, shaking the bag open and looking inside.

"72 000 gil," Francis replied. I almost laughed out loud in disbelief. 72 000 gil? That was the perfect sum – _more_ than the perfect sum in fact – to fill in the monetary gap that I had been unable to fill myself. The fact that he even managed to be paid, to procure _any _money before the Plate fell in was…

"It's enough. More than enough." The man from the gang said gruffly. Taking a second to balance his weight on his crutch, he dug his hand into the bag and pulled out seven piles of G1000, throwing them to the ground at my feet, much to my astonishment. Francis tilted his head to one side. What a perfect pokerface he had on – his expression didn't betray any trace of shock or surprise in it at all.

"But you need that money, don't you?" he asked.

"So do you," the man from the gang retorted. I thought I felt my heart skip a beat. For a moment Francis and the man from the gang locked gazes. Eventually, Francis nodded. "Alright," he said.

"Claudia, can you pick up that money please?"

Dazed and confused, I slid the cure material back into my coat pocket before slowly kneeling down to pick up the wads of gil scattered around me.

"Hope this is th' last time I see yer ugly mug, Milton," the man from the gang said in a surly tone. Twisting the top of the sack-cloth bag closed one-handed before gingerly bending over to pick up the other, he shuffled forwards, stiff and graceless, down the stairs, past Francis in his wheelchair and Kaoru beside him and towards the street to Sector 1.  
Francis twisted around uncomfortably in his seat.

"Manuel!" he called out. The man from the gang stopped and looked back around.

"What?" he half-scowled.

Francis slid back down, but remained facing the man from the gang. "God be with ya, mate," he said solemnly.

After a short hesitation, the man from the gang gave a . "This slum life," he said. "This life in Midgar - Makes y' wonder if there is a God out there."

He cast his gaze down then glanced back up again, nodding. "…Pleasure doin' business with yeh, Milton." He grumbled, a final farewell.

When he was gone, Francis sat properly back in his chair. He looked at me and grinned, raising an eyebrow.

"They… did they release you?" I asked numbly. "From the hospital?"

Francis chuckled lightly and shook his head. "No," he answered. "I'm not meant to be out for another week. But we bribed a nurse to let me out for a short spell - Now I have a date on the Tuesday after I'm discharged." he winked at me.  
I couldn't help but give a smile. Using his charms How very like Francis.

"But then," I found myself blurting out loud. "If you're not supposed to be out yet, who dressed you?"

At that question, Francis threw back his head and laughed, soon after clutching his ribs from the pain it caused him. Kaoru hung his head, seemingly in embarrassment.

"Let's not go there," he said grimacing. "I don't want to remember it."

* * *

Three days later, as I sat alone (once again) at home in the apartment, the sun beginning to set over Midgar, I received a call on my cellphone from an unknown number.

Staring at the unfamiliar call address displayed on my screen, I thumbed the Dial button and raised the device to my ear.

"…Hello?"

A touch of static running in the background, and noisy evening commuter sounds. Then…

"_Oi_," a masculine voice – unfamiliar to me - grunted on the other end.

I blinked in surprise at the brusque 'greeting'. 'Hey'? That was a little casual, and almost bordering on rude. I mean, really…. '_hey'_? And in that tone of voice? Although, the fact that they said '_oi_' (and with the correct intonation too) did seem to point at the fact that my caller was most likely of Wutai origin, and not just some random using our language as they pleased.

So I replied: "_Dochira-sama desu ka_? May I ask who's calling?"

"_Hmph_," said my anonymous caller, and then in the Wutai language: "_You got a minute?_"

I pursed my lips slightly in agitation. Looks like I wasn't going to get a proper answer anytime soon.

"…_Sou desho ne_. I suppose," I answered, half-reluctantly. Another _hmph_ response, only this time with a slight touch of approval.

"_Come to the Sector 1 station,_" they said – more a demand than a suggestion or a question. "Anata wo matou. _I'll be waiting._"

And then a -_click_- as my mysterious man hung up on me without even waiting for a reply, like he was used to having people follow orders as he gave them. A low, almost hostile sort of voice, yet composed and I suppose gentle in its own way… I'm sure I've never heard it before. Nonetheless…

How can it be that, even though I can swear that I've never heard that voice before, it sounded so familiar? Even though I'm sure I didn't know anyone quite as rude, how can that voice carry such a nostalgic feel?

But then, if I think hard and cast my mind back – then maybe – just maybe…

* * *

(_Please review!_)


	13. Memories of Wutai 1

**A/N:** A year and a half later… Sorry for the absence, I just completed my last year of high school (no more NCEA!) and am now at Uni (Bachelor of Arts hellz yeah). Plus, my USB got stolen some time ago with lots of things including the chapter on it – thanks to the internetz I was able to recover it all but I did lose my mojo for a time. And then after all that I decided I didn't like what I had, so this is an almost complete turnaround of what was originally planned!

Meanwhile, for some reason all the formatting on the chapters of the story has been screwed up royally. I hope to amend this soon. (RAEG.)

Despite all these setbacks and delays though, another thank you to my readers and I hope you enjoy the latest instalment of this story.

* * *

**Chapter 13: Interlude – Memories of… **_**Wutai**_

_**

* * *

**_

Before I move on, I want to tell you a story. It's a story that is very nearly seven years old, from when I was still a small ten-year-old girl living in the Capital of Wutai, and this is the first time I have told it to anyone since it happened all those years ago.

This story takes place near the end of the War. Wutai, an independent country, had decided to fight back against the ShinRa, who sought to use our land for Mako energy. At that time the fighting was getting worse and worse every day and we were all living in constant fear. The death toll of both our Soldiers and our fellow countrymen was high, and everyone feared that it would get even higher. The days seemed to grow darker and the nights seemed to grow longer as our country sank deeper into a pit of depression that we were worried we'd never rise out of.

In a last ditch effort to save the country that we so loved, Emperor Godo was considering surrender to the ShinRa – a decision that many of his court officials and his own subjects did not agree with, calling it 'cowardice'. However, while many saw surrender as a sign of weakness, others saw it as a sign of strength. I remember when our school was still open; our teacher was patiently talking about the War to our class. When asked why we couldn't just settle the argument peacefully, our teacher looked sad and said "If only it were that simple."

Several weeks later, our school was closed. With nothing left to fill our days, the children of Wutai often ran amuck and played with each other. Some children played 'war' and were scolded by the adults. When I was out of the house, I spent time with my friends and sat in silence while they chatted animatedly around me. At home, life seemed dull and grey and restless. Neither my father nor I talked about the War – there wasn't much left to say about it. But these last two weeks especially, we had rarely spoken to one another. I think we were both afraid that if we opened our mouths, something would slip out to remind us both of what had just happened.

For you see, only fourteen days prior, my mother - Terese Freeman - passed away.

You'll forgive me if I don't say any more on the subject, won't you?

It had been drummed into our head by many of the adults (and particularly so, the more aggressive-thinking men and women of the community) that we should hate ShinRa, since they'd caused us no end of suffering for eight long years and did not suffer in return. While the warriors of Wutai fought bravely for our cause, the ShinRa military cut them down in cold blood and felt no remorse for the loss of their own men. Or so it seemed to us – for every ShinRa infantryman we heard had been slain, five more had appeared in his place. As children, it was only natural that we believed in this line of thinking, as we knew nothing else.

My mother however, being from Midgar herself, had often tried to convince me that this was not necessarily the case and that in War, everybody suffered. Sad to say, I never fully believed her. But one day something happened that greatly impacted my, up until then, straightforward view of this. It was a late autumn afternoon, four hours past midday. I had been asked by my Aunty to collect some firewood and extra kindling from the storehouse by the Dojo, so I bundled myself up in a warm coat and scarf and obediently went on my way.

It was at the storehouse at the edge of town where it happened. Alone in my thoughts, sniffing wetly and miserably wishing I'd put on some gloves, I pushed open the door and reached inside for the closest pile of wood. Picking up one small log, I placed it in the crook of my arm, picked up another, placed it on top of the first… and so on, until my arms were laden with kindling and firewood and my hands and clothes smelt strongly of Pine and Cedar. I stepped back outside and let the door swing silently shut behind me. As I began to walk away, I thought I heard the barest hint of movement coming from behind the small shack I'd just exited and I stopped, turning to try and find the source.

I didn't see anything, not at first. It was when I crept around to the back of the Dojo that I found it. A shocked, terrified gasp – _almost_ a wail – escaped my lips before I could stop myself and I clapped my hands to my mouth, my armful load of firewood falling and clattering loudly – too loudly – at my feet. Sitting slumped against the back wall of the Dojo was a soldier – but not just _any_ soldier, a _ShinRa_ soldier! An infantryman clad in blue and brown, his helmet on his head and his weapon on the ground at his side.

That was the first thing I noticed.

_Why is he here, so close to the village? Is it an invasion? Are we to be taken captive? Oh, Leviathan! What do we do?_

My first instinct was to turn and run back home, screaming warnings all the while. As a citizen of Wutai, wasn't that my duty - to warn others of danger when it was nearby?

But then I saw the blood.

It was all over him – his gloves, his clothes, his _rifle_ – one hand was weakly clasped over his abdomen in a feeble attempt to stem the blood flow of a wound I couldn't see. The red visors on his helmet were cracked; one of them shattered to pieces, and the right leg of his trousers was badly torn and dyed dark with blood. A long, deep, knife-like cut slashed his face from his ear down to his jawline and there were crimson smears on his cheek.

For what seemed like a long time, I was incapable of doing anything – my mind was just too conflicted. What should I feel? Should I be scared? Angry? Panicked? Or should I be calm and wary and pitying? An elder of the village once barked at us that ShinRa soldiers were unlike the proud warriors of Wutai - when they were wounded or dying, they didn't bow out with dignity. Instead they became more animal than man; their eyes turned red, they bared their teeth like wolves raising their hackles and they attacked viciously with all the strength they had. Like beasts.

This confused me now. What I was seeing was so much different to anything I could have possibly imagined and while I had seen wounded warriors before, the sight before me just seemed so… so foreign and impossible to me. An enemy soldier, weak and vulnerable? It was almost surreal. He wasn't moving. Was he dead?

No sooner had I thought this than the infantryman lurched upwards in his slumped-over position and gave a long, shuddering gasp for air as if up until then, he hadn't been breathing. The blood-covered hand he held over his abdomen jerked wildly and curled into a claw, clamping around the wound as if to try and hold it together. Startled and sickened, I jumped and took an involuntary step backwards, kicking at the firewood scattered around my feet and giving myself away. The infantryman's head snapped up and to the right, his gaze instantly locking on me, no doubt. There was the tensest of silences while I held my breath in absolute terror until, just as easily if he were starting a casual conversation –

"Hey there," the infantryman said, a little breathlessly, sinking back against the wall. There was the barest hint of a tired smile on his face. I stared back, not knowing what to say. When it became clear I wasn't going to answer, he looked around at his surroundings slowly.  
"Guess I'm still alive, huh," he commented with a bitter, humourless laugh. He flinched abruptly and grimaced, looking down at his wound. As if annoyed, he suddenly reached up with his left hand and wrenched his helmet off his head, letting it roll away from him carelessly. "That's not good," he muttered bleakly, upon seeing all the blood covering himself. While he gingerly inspected his injuries, I ogled open-mouthed at his appearance. His face was young, he couldn't have been a day over twenty – but somehow there was something 'old' about him too, in a way I couldn't put my finger on at the time. His hair was short, messy and a dark, fiery red the likes of which I'd never seen before and his eyes were a bright, vivid blue.

The infantryman looked back up at me. There was something resigned and faintly despairing in those blue eyes now, as if he'd just deemed his condition beyond help. "What's your name, kid?" he asked me. There was the slightest rasp in his voice. I gulped back a multitude of terrified whimpers. "Morita Kazue," I answered, quietly as I dared. I was too shocked at the situation that I was in to give 'Claudia' as an answer as I usually did with _gaijin _('outsiders'). The infantryman cocked his head to one side. "Kasuwei?" he tried. I shook my head and made an attempt to raise my voice. "Kazue," I said again. He nodded in response.

"Kazue," he repeated. It sounded a little strange coming from a non-Wutai tongue. "I'm at the village, aren't I, Kazue?" he asked. I nodded. The infantryman tilted his head back and laughed then. It wasn't an unkind or otherwise disturbing laugh, but something about it frightened me somehow. I nervously shuffled back a half-step. The action seemed to pain him and he winced once or twice as he nudged his wounds, but for some reason it made him laugh all the more.

"_Donata desu ka_?" a commanding voice suddenly broke in. The infantryman stopped laughing and I quickly turned around where I stood. From around the corner of the Dojo came a tall, handsome boy of about sixteen years with short, sweat-tousled black hair and serious brown eyes. He was dressed in a kimono and dark _hakama _trousers, his feet were bare and a _shinai_ was held loosely in his left hand; signs that he'd just been practicing Kendo. His solemn gaze fell on me and I inwardly squirmed with anxiety. I knew who this boy was. He was well-known to virtually everyone in the village and respected by many people – of not only my generation, but even amongst the adults as well. His name was...

"Ansho Saikodo-_san_," I said in a timid half-whisper. I gave a deep bow and he gave a grunt and a brief bow of his own in reply.

Saikodo was the grandson to an old Samurai of the Emperor's Court; and being of Samurai descent meant that his status was right up there, higher than anyone I've ever known in my generation. His mother died in childbirth and his father was killed many years ago in a battle before the War even began, so he lived with his grandparents. The strict _Bushido _ways of his grandfather had moulded him to be blunt and callous and more than often cold and hard, but there was something that everyone admired about him too, despite his outwardly unlikable personality – He was clever and brave, although brash and reckless, and… well, I guess kind in his own way as well.

Being the daughter of a humble librarian meant that I had little to nothing to do with him, so thus hardly ever had occasion or reason to talk to him. Still though, on the rare moments where I was in his presence, I was mostly awed into silence. I gave another (needless) bow.

"What's going on now?" the infantryman spoke up. "Has the cavalry arrived?" Saikodo looked past me at the sound of the voice and walked towards the back of the Dojo. Upon seeing the infantryman, he seemed slightly taken aback, the most uncontrolled emotion I'd ever seen on his face – he blanched and his eyes widened as if a wave of white-hot anger had just passed over him. So quickly though, almost as if I might've imagined it, he regained his composure and scowled deeply at the incapacitated soldier before him. The infantryman looked up at Saikodo dispassionately. A stiff, hostile silence fell and I felt the beginnings of discomfort in my gut.

"Who are you?" Saikodo suddenly demanded, his Wutai accent heavy but not incomprehensible. I started in surprise, not having known he could speak any other languages. "Where have you come from? Why are you here in the village?"

"I'm a grunt for the ShinRa army," the infantryman replied coldly. "But apart from that I ain't telling you a damn thing."

Almost giving in to the sudden burst of rage that had just swept over him, Saikodo seized his _shinai_ with his right hand and threw his arm upwards as if to strike. The infantryman closed his eyes. Out of instinct, I gave a cry of protest and raised my hand as it to try and stop the former. "_Yamete kudasai_!" I cried. _Please stop_! Saikodo whirled around to look at me with that livid look still etched into his features and I clasped my hands over my mouth in horror and dismay.

Saikodo drew in a deep breath, closed his eyes and exhaled harshly through his nose. Lowering his _shinai_, he opened his eyes and looked at me severely.

"Do you know what this man is?" he asked, reverting back to the Wutai tongue. I looked down at my feet shamefacedly, nodding shyly, my cheeks burning red hot. "He's an enemy soldier," Saikodo continued. "An enemy to our country. To _Wutai_. Thousands of others exactly like him have killed our people and you would show him _pity_? Tch! I don't believe this."

"But he's…" I mumbled something nervously, my hands still clamped over my mouth.

"What? Speak up!" Saikodo barked. I hurriedly dropped my hands and tried again.

"He's not just a s-soldier," I said. My voice was trembling. "H-he's a person too. A-and he's someone else's s-son or brother or fr-friend." To my own shock and somewhat to my shame, I found myself regurgitating things that my mother had told me that I had never really believed. I felt horrible and guilty then. Why hadn't I believed her when she was still alive? Why _now_?

When he spoke again his anger had dissipated. Somber. But dead stern. "You speak like your mother did," he said. I looked up a little, quickly. What did he know about my mother? "Both of you may be right. But your ideals are foolish and overly naïve. This is a time of war. You can't afford to get carried away by your imagination."

"But I'm not…" I bit my lip and looked away, swallowing back the protest.

"This man," Saikodo went on. "Someone's son, someone's brother, someone's friend - For all we know, he and his father, his brothers _his _friends killed _our _fathers and brothers and friends. Do you see?"

"When you two're done lollygaggin'," the infantryman cut in. Saikodo and I both looked back to him. It hadn't been a rude or impatient interjection, just kind of… offhand. As if he was bored or waiting for something to happen. After another pause pregnant with hostility, Saikodo tried again.

"How did you get here," he asked. The infantryman leaned his head back against the wall. I noticed that his blue eyes were heavily bloodshot and the whites of his left were slowly turning red with blood.

"I crawled," he replied, calm again. "There was an ambush, your men killed mine and I crawled here because I didn't want to be surrounded by the stink of death when I copped it. Happy?"

"Coward," Saikodo snapped. I shrank back in dread. "You would abandon your _nakama_ in battle? How stupid."

"Hey, I didn't ask to be here, alright?" the infantryman shot back. Blood dribbled from between the fingers of the hand on his abdomen. "I didn't ask to be drafted into this stupid war, I didn't ask to see men Wutai _or_ Midgar get slaughtered and I definitely didn't ask to get myself killed. I just. needed. money. Just doing some patrols or running some errands. That's all I needed. Just some money."

Saikodo glowered at the infantryman. The latter returned the gaze steadily until he suddenly gagged, retched and coughed violently. He clapped his free hand to his mouth and blood sprayed into the air and fell in bright crimson flecks on his clothes, splattering onto the fabric and staining it a dark magenta. I gasped at the sight and Saikodo held out an arm as if to hold me back. When his coughing fit had subsided, the infantryman slowly took his hand away, dragging his palm over his mouth. Blood trickled down his chin.

"But it's all over now," he muttered, almost to himself. His eyes were narrowed slightly and he looked pensive. "I'm done. Can't change a damn thing." He looked back up at Saikodo, his face grave. "I know you don't owe me anything and I sure as hell ain't in any place to be asking favours from anyone, let alone someone from Wutai. But could you do something for me?"

Without having voiced the favour, I already knew what it was he wanted. I could guess and I think Saikodo knew it too. For a ten-year-old and a sixteen-year-old – no, for _anyone_ to be able to imagine such a thing was terrible and it made my poor heart ache. For the first time ever I saw Saikodo hesitate. Then he nodded. A slow, sure nod. The infantryman returned the nod and reached for the rifle by his side, taking it up and holding it out to Saikodo.

Saikodo handed me his _shinai_, which I took carefully with both hands. He then received the rifle - not in a wholly clumsy, unfamiliar way, nor in the way of one very experienced with firearms – and held it in his right hand, resting the butt against his shoulder and cradling it loosely in his other hand. The blood covering the weapon smudged dark reds over the sleeves of his white kimono and stained it. The fact that he knew how to correctly hold a rifle startled me a little and it also looked strange and wildly out-of-place –this boy whose family was so strict with tradition; barefoot, dressed in a _hakama_ and… holding a rifle? I wanted to laugh, cry, pull the rifle from his hands and throw it on the ground. It all looked so _wrong_ to me and in so many more ways than just one_._

"There's three left if I remember right," the infantryman told him. His voice wasn't without a tremble and it was plain to see from the look on his face that he was struggling to control his emotions. "Do me a favour. Two in the heart and one in the head." Saikodo nodded again, slowly. He moved to stand facing the infantryman and motioned me to come stand behind him with a jerk of his head. My heart felt heavy in my chest but my feet moved freely and I scurried over to him faster than I'd have liked to, out of the line of fire. Though I tried my best to hide it, the infantryman saw the expression of sadness on my face.

"I'm long gone, kid," he said to me, in a thin grasp at reassurance. "It's better like this." Saikodo raised the rifle and aimed it squarely at the infantryman's chest.

"_Junbi dekiteru,_" he said. _Are you ready?_ Although he didn't understand the words, he understood the nature of them. The infantryman nodded and closed his eyes. Saikodo turned his head a little and spoke to me. "_Miru na,_" he told me. _Don't look_. Turning away, I tucked the _shinai_ under my arm and covered my face with my hands. There was a drawing of breath, two loud shots, the click of an empty magazine and then a crash as Saikodo threw the rifle to the ground at his feet.

"There were only two left," he growled. He sounded angry for some reason. "Stupid." I kept my hands over my face and the _shinai_ jammed under my arm and tried not to cry. Later, we buried the infantryman's body there behind the dojo and did our best to hide the blood from sight. It was to be kept a complete secret, Saikodo said firmly. No-one was to know. No-one.

* * *

It was the war that shaped most of my childhood. As much as my parents tried to help me have a happy one, it wasn't possible to avert my eyes from everything. Walking to the Sector 1 station, my ears ringing with the sound of that familiar voice, I found I couldn't help myself from reflecting on this one incident. Just this one. It wasn't hard to figure out why – when you made a connection like that, it was pretty obvious. But still, that it should come back after this long…

Drawing my coat tighter around me, I walked up the stairs as a train drew up to the platform in a cloud of thick, white steam. Commuters began coming in and out of the carriages in droves and a lone figure that had been sitting on the bench nearby stood up and dusted off his trousers. My heart beating quick in anxiety and excitement, I approached him as he took up the dark case by his side and came to face me. I hadn't seen him for four, five years maybe, since he left Wutai after his grandfather died. He was a lot taller than I remembered him last being, his face was harder around the jaw and the eyes and he was wearing a neat, dark suit and tie and not the old _hakama_ that he used to wear, but it was definitely the same person.

"Anshou Saikodo-_san_," I said in a timid half-whisper. I gave a deep bow and he gave a grunt and a brief bow of his own in reply. "_Hisashiburi desu ne_," he said. _It's been a long time_.

* * *

**A/N: **It definitely has been a long time… I'm a bit rusty, I'm afraid. Please leave a review if you would be so kind :)


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